


Give Me Love (Then Help Me Not Die)

by Dirthera



Series: Give Me Love [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Blue Hawke, F/F, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Modern AU, Multi, Polyamorous relationship, Red Hawke, Twin Hawkes, but it's dealt with and no one takes it seriously i swear, warning for some homophobia in chapter 18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-06-08 19:24:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 45,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6870349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dirthera/pseuds/Dirthera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marian Hawke thinks all she needs to be happy is a good fight and a nice romp with Isabela. Then she picks up a crying dalish hitchhiker. Garrett Hawke is a starving med student pining for the cute barista at the coffee shop where he studies, and is desperately trying to work up the courage to ask him out. And Isabela? Well, she's gotten messed up in something she really shouldn't have.<br/>Basically, Marian is agressive, Garrett is diplomatic, and Isabela is Isabela.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Marian

Marian Hawke extracted herself from between Isabela’s legs and rolled over into a pile of pillows, smiling. She could feel her friend’s body still shaking slightly next to her, and mentally patted herself on the back. It had taken her at least 30 minutes, bringing Isabela almost to the edge and then bringing her back again, but it had been worth the sore jaw and fingers cramping up when Isabela finally came, making those delicious noises, threatening to alert Garrett to their activities. He always got so grumpy when they were too loud. They really shouldn’t be doing this with her twin brother in the next room, Marian thought, fully intending to do this again later.

They had a good thing going, and Marian was perfectly happy with their arrangement. She had first met Isabela a few years ago, on a smuggling job from her old boss, Athenril. Marian had needed a ship to help her transport a shipment of fake designer bags, and Isabela had needed cash (and, let’s be honest, an excuse to get her ship out of the harbor again).

 

_“So, what will your services cost?” Marian asked, perfectly aware of how intimidating she looked with blood running from her nose, knuckles red and bruised. The last captain she had tried to enlist hadn’t been quite as friendly as this one. Based on the odd angle and constant throbbing, she suspected her nose was broken. Luckily, looking scary often made bartering easier._

_The captain she was trying to enlist was standing in front of an elegant but discreet boat. It was big enough to transport all the cargo Marian needed transported, but not so big that it looked suspicious for just the two of them to be operating it on their own. “The Sirens Call” was printed on the side in big blue letters._

_“That depends on the nature of the cargo, and how far you want it transported,” the captain, who had introduced herself as Isabela, responded. With a glint in her eye, she added, “I also give discounts based on how good the view is on the journey. You won’t end up paying much.”_

_Marian felt a smile tug at the corner of her mouth. The flirting had not escaped her notice, and she didn’t mind. With her dark skin and bountiful curves, Isabela was attractive._

_She put on her most self-assured grin. “I would imagine not.” The sudden pain made her wince. Yup. Her nose was definitely broken. An annoyed scowl spread across her face._

_Isabela laughed at that, a rich laugh that made Marian feel a warmth spread in her chest. And other places. She just might take the captain up on her offer._

_“As for the cargo, it’s illegal, but not unethical. No dead animals or anything. Fake designer shit. Some people are willing to pay a fortune for something, just because of some name on the side. What idiots.” Marian had never really understood why someone would buy ten times as much for a product just because of the name of the seller. It all looked the same to her. “I gotta pick it up in Gwaren and deliver it in Kirkwall. Shouldn’t take long, on a ship as good as yours.” She grinned at Isabela, seeing the pride in her eyes._

_Isabela pretended to think for a few moments, then nodded. “Deal,” she said, “but only if you don’t mind sharing the captain’s cabin with me. I do have such terribly little room on this boat of mine.”_

_Marian chuckled at that, knowing full well that wasn’t the reason the captain would have her share her cabin. She grinned. “Why, if that’s the way it has to be,” she responded in a sultry voice, “then I guess we’ll just have to bunk together.”_

Isabela leaned over and pecked her on the lips. “Thanks babe. But you should get going, aren’t you already late for work?”

Marian sighed and sat up, throwing her feet over the edge of the bed. She turned and smiled back at Isabela. “Totally worth it. And besides, it’s my last day before I’m done with this crew. What’s the client gonna do, fire me?” They both laughed at that, although she noticed that Isabela’s heart wasn’t in it. They laughed not only the fact that at this point it was too late to fire her, but also the fact that since the work she was doing was illegal, there was no legal way to do so, and this client definitely did not have the balls to remove Marian himself from the job he had hired her to do. Not only was she intimidating, with her leather jacket, black hair, and broad red scar across her nose, she could beat up any one of her coworkers without breaking a sweat. And seeing as fighting was a big part of their job, everyone knew it.

Marian got up off the bed and selected one of many black tank tops, and pulled on her black jeans. They were skin tight and made her look intimidating, but were also stretchy enough that she could fight in them. The perfect combination. There were so many bloodstains covering them that she should probably throw them out, but she was loathe to part with a pair of pants that perfect. And besides, bloodstains don’t show on black materials, she thought to herself, so who cared anyway.

While she was getting dressed, Isabela started looking more and more thoughtful. She looked like she was about to say something a couple of times, but then she caught herself each time, not letting the words leave her mouth. Marian knew she would have to deal with this when she got home, but despite the way they had laughed at it earlier, she knew she needed to get her ass to work.

“I’ll see you later, Bela. Text me after work, yeah?” she blew her friend a kiss as she exited their bedroom, closing the door behind her.

Just to be faced with a very resigned Garrett, looking traumatized. He was staring into a bowl of cereal, and when Marian approached, he looked up at her, his eyes pleading, his beard attempting to do the same, somehow.

“The walls are really thin,” he said, “and I do not want to listen to my sister fucking her best friend. Please?”

Marian just grinned at him in response. “You’re just jealous, Gare. You need to get laid. How’s it going with that barista? Gotten up the nerves to ask him out yet?”

Garrett glared at her in response, but he couldn’t really hide the grin dancing at the edges of his mouth. It was no secret that her brother had a crush on the cute tattooed barista at the local coffee shop where he brought his work during his exam season study days. And it was understandable. Marian had joined him once, and even she had to admit that the guy was pretty cute. The two men had had some nice conversations, and a sort of casual friendship had seemed to have blossomed between them. The barista would sit down at Garrett’s table during his breaks, and Garrett would buy him coffee. They’d talk a bit, and then Cute Barista would have to go back to work. Marian kept forgetting his name, but it didn’t really matter. What mattered was that Garrett needed to get his ass into gear and ask him out.

Garrett paused for a few moments before answering her question. “I think so. I think I’m gonna ask him today.” He looked thoughtful. “I think he likes me too. And I know he likes guys. He talked a bit about an ex-boyfriend, though he didn’t seem very fond of him. But the odds seem in my favor. So I figure I should just go for it.”

Marian smiled. “Good. Maybe getting laid will make you stop complaining about everything I do, Mr. Perfect,” she said in jest, although the last two words felt bitter in her mouth, and her smile faltered. There was no doubt who was the more accomplished twin.

After only a moment, the cocky grin was back on her face. She grabbed a banana and a protein bar, throwing them into the pockets of her leather biker jacket. The pocket wouldn’t close completely around the banana, but she figured it was no great loss if it slipped out on her ride to work. She laced up her combat boots, grabbed her keys and wallet out of the bowl next to the door, and waved as she let herself out.

Marian loped down the stairs of their apartment building. She and her brother didn’t exactly live in the best part of town, but since he was a starving student and she made her money doing illegal shit, they couldn’t be picky.

She opened the door of their building, giving it that extra push with her foot at the bottom of the frame, like she knew it needed, and the May air hit her. It smelled sweet, like newly cut grass, even though none of the buildings around theirs had anything more than a small patch of grass outside their doors. May just smelled like that, she figured. The air was warm, but not so much so that her jacket stuck to her skin. The sun would be shining on her, if not for the tall apartment buildings rising up around her, casting shadows over the ground, making everything feel cooler than it was outside this shadow zone.

She walked over to the garage she and her brother shared, opened it, and pulled out her motorcycle. She had to maneuver it carefully to avoid scraping up her brother’s ancient, rusted pickup, but she did it all on muscle memory. She was used to this. This was routine. The anxious look Isabela had had on her face before she had left was not.

Marian pushed the thought out of her head. She’d figure out what was up with Bela later, but for now she needed to get to work. Once the bike was free, she noticed the banana attempting to escape her jacket pocket, and decided to devour it before getting on her way.

That done, she grabbed her helmet out of the garage and headed out. She felt free, loving the way the wind felt as she sped through it and the way the sun warmed the back of her leather jacket. As she turned left, onto the small road leading into the wilderness, toward the Bone Pit, she let out a laugh that was quickly caught by the wind. She would never get used to the intoxicating feeling of riding a motorcycle. The danger, the knowledge that one wrong move would send her skidding, though she never made a wrong move. The feeling that she was in control. Defying physics. Never falling.

But still worry kept gnawing at her. Isabela would be fine, she knew that. They had fought their way out of bad messes before, and they’d be fine this time too. But still, even as the satisfying rush of adrenaline coursed through her, she couldn’t help but frown.


	2. Garrett

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be alternating POVs between Marian and Garrett.

Garrett was pleased to see that Fenris was working today. The white haired man was standing behind the counter, operating the coffee machine, and the sight of him nearly made Garrett’s heart skip a beat.

He approached the counter, mentally rehearsing his order. It wasn’t complicated, and yet Garrett had managed to make a fool of himself more times than he could count, all thanks to his traitorous mouth. It seemed to always work against him when he was flustered (and around Fenris, he ended up flustered a lot).

Fenris turned away from the coffee machine and spotted Garrett. He nodded at him, and the corner of his mouth turned up slightly, so slightly Garrett wouldn’t have noticed it if he hadn’t been looking for it. The barista sauntered over.

“The usual?” he asked, sparing Garrett the probably humiliating experience of attempting to speak with his heart in his throat. Garrett nodded in response, a relieved smile filling his face.

“The usual,” he confirmed.

“I’ll be right over with that, then,” Fenris said as Hawke handed him a crumpled five-dollar bill. Fenris looked at his watch. “I can take a break in five minutes.” He raised one eyebrow at Garrett, turning the statement into a question.

“Then I’ll wait five minutes,” Garrett responded, smiling. He dug another fiver out of his pocket. “And make that two of the usual, please.”

This time the smile that tugged on the corners of Fenris’s mouth was a little more obvious. He placed the money in the register, and dropped the change into the tip jar. He knew Garrett would do that anyway, so he’d started skipping the middleman. Garrett didn’t mind.

Garrett spotted an empty table for two in a corner of the small café. The Lyrium Roast was never crowded, not even during peak hours, but it did okay for itself. And that just meant that Garrett never had trouble finding a quiet place to sit.

He looked around the establishment. It was small, but homey, and frequented mostly by regulars. Garrett had stumbled into it mostly by chance the first time, he had just finished his first exam, and needed someplace to study. The idea of going home, where his sister and her best friend were most likely… enjoying their day off, was not an enticing one. And so he had decided to find a café to sit at.

_It was raining. Of course, it had to be raining. Big, cold droplets, falling from the sky and soaking him to the bone. He really should head home, he knew, he shouldn’t be spending money on café visits when he had rent payments and groceries to worry about._

_He could feel water dripping from his beard onto his chest. He shouldn’t, but he knew that if he went home, Marian and Bela would be making way too much noise for him to focus. How his sister could sleep with her best friend without mixing feelings into it, Garrett had no idea. Of course, he had always been the most easily attached of the two of them. She was of the belief that feelings were a liability, and that love didn’t exist. He could always see right through her tough emotional exterior, though. Maybe it was a twin thing. Either way, he had to admit that it seemed the arrangement the two women had was beneficial and uncomplicated for them both. He was glad they had each other, but that did not mean he was glad they were doing it under the roof they shared._

_He sighed. Going home was not an option._

_Feeling the rain starting to creep down his neck, he made a decision. Café it was._

_He started scanning the surrounding buildings for any sign of anywhere that sold coffee and had a warm place for him to sit. It would be easier if he were in Hightown, as it was littered with those kinds of places, but Lowtown wasn’t completely lacking either._

_There. A sign jutted out of the side of a building, not far in front of him._ The Lyrium Roast _. He headed towards it in a half jog._

_Upon entering the café, a bell rang above his head, and the barista at the counter turned towards him. Garrett knew that he probably looked like a gigantic drowned cat, and briefly considered meowing at the barista in jest._

_Instead, he walked up to the counter. “a black coffee and a blueberry scone, please,” he said, smiling at the whitehaired man taking his order as he handed him a 5-dollar bill. He was cute, in an intimidating sort of way. “Sorry if I drip all over your floor, it’s raining something awful out there.”_

_The barista nodded._ Fenris _, his nametag said. “That’s no problem. We’re having some trouble with the machine, so just grab a table, and I’ll be right over with your coffee as soon as it’s done.” He gestured vaguely to the seating area as he handed Garrett his change, which immediately ended up in the clear jar labeled tips._

_Garrett smiled sheepishly, thankful that the man hadn’t just taken one look at him and told him to leave, and turned to face the rest of the room._

_The café was far from full. There were a few customers scattered around the small room, but the place was mostly quiet. Garrett made his way towards a corner where he saw an empty table with two small armchairs, both facing out from the walls. His bag was dropped with a thump next to the closest one, and he pulled out his biochemistry book, along with three notebooks filled to the brim with notes. He sat down and began reading through it all._

_He was muttering obscenities under his breath by the time Fenris came over with his coffee. Garrett took one look at his quirked eyebrow, and before his brain had time to consider whether it would be wise to voice his frustration to the cute coffee shop employee, his mouth decided to blurt out “fuck biochemistry, honestly.”_

_The corner of Fenris’s mouth turned slightly upwards as he set down the cup of coffee and blueberry scone, and then hesitated. “If… if you feel like venting your frustration, I seem to have a light workload today,” he said, his deep voice sending shivers through Garrett. This guy should be a voice actor, he thought to himself._

_Garrett smiled at him sheepishly. “Sorry, I just… the life of a med student. Why did I pick this life of agony?” he said in mock pain._

_Fenris chuckled and sat down. “There must have been some reason. Maybe you’re a masochist?”_

_Now it was Garrett’s turn to laugh. A short, hearty laughter, and then a comfortable silence stretched between them._

_Fenris was the first to break it. “I- I’m sorry. I do not know your name, though you obviously know mine.” Fenris looked down, as though he were embarrassed. Garrett smiled._

_“Now that hardly seems fair,” he said. “I- I’m Hawke. Umm, Garrett Hawke. Sorry.” He could feel the red rising in his cheeks. Couldn’t even introduce himself properly, what the hell, he thought to himself._

_Fenris looked up again, smiling, and then turned as they both heard the bell over the door chime. Garrett cursed his bad luck, that someone would enter just as he was talking to the cutest barista in the history of baristas. “Well then, Hawke, it was nice to meet you,” Fenris said, getting up out of his chair._

_“You too,” Hawke said, smiling._

_When he left a few hours later, Garrett was happy. He knew he’d be back. Not only for Fenris, but also for the excellent coffee. But mostly for Fenris._

 

Fenris approached him five minutes later, as promised, with two black coffees and blueberry scones. He set the goods down on the table, and sat down in the chair opposite Garrett. “Hawke.” He nodded at him.

Garrett smiled, feeling the nerves bubbling just below the surface. He tried to keep calm, knowing that being an anxious mess would not help his case here.

Fenris gestured at the books spread haphazardly across the small table. “How’s the studying going?” he asked, grinning at the pained expression that crossed Garrett’s face.

“I would be very thankful if you could just… kill me or something? I still have three exams left, and I just do not want to do this.”

Fenris shot him an apologetic smile. “Maybe you need a break. You should take some time to have fun and not think about school.”

There was the opening Garrett needed. He took a shuddering breath, trying to steady himself, and then let out in a stream of consciousness; “I was thinking that too but I don’t really want to do that alone so I was thinking maybe you would want to join me? Tonight? Only if you want to. And have time. And don’t mind spending some time with me. Like as a date. If you feel the same way. It’s okay if you don’t I don’t mind I was just thinking-” he stopped, registering Fenris’s open mouthed surprise. He had messed it up. He had misunderstood. He had imagined things that weren’t there. He would be perfectly happy if a hole just opened under his chair and sucked him down into the Void. “I-I’m sorry. I assumed too much. Forget I said anything.” He could feel his face turning red.

“I-I would love to, actually,” Fenris said after a pause, looking more surprised at his answer than Garrett felt. Fenris quickly straightened in his chair and smiled. “My- well, my shift ends at six. You want to meet here?”

Garrett smiled, relieved, and nodded, just as someone entered the café. “I’ll see you at six, then,” Garrett said, as Fenris smiled apologetically and got up to see to the new customer. Suddenly the rest of the day didn’t seem so awful, he thought as he returned to his books.


	3. Marian

Marian could hear nothing but the wind, and feel nothing but the pain. The bruise quickly blackening above her left eye was throbbing, the stitches on her right thigh were itching, and she worried that the ones on her left arm were going to rip open, the way it felt like the skin was separating with every movement. She remembered clearly the sight of a knife headed towards her face, and the unprotected forearm reaching instinctively up to take the blow.

 _Don’t think about it. Just get home._ The words were repeating in her head like a mantra. She had driven through worse, and didn’t mind a little plain, but getting home was always a relief. She would just keep going, and not stop for anything.

At least, that’s what she thought she would do.

Hawke nudged the bike around a bend, and saw a small figure standing by the side of the road, thumb out. As she approached, she slowed down, and took in more details.

The woman was small, perhaps a head shorter than Marian, and slight, looking as though she might blow away if a particularly strong gust of wind came along. She was wearing a cute green sundress, had a daisy in her hair, and was… crying?

Marian stopped her bike right in front of her, and the woman pulled back her hitchhiking hand, attempting to quickly dry away any trace of tears from her tattooed face. Based on what Marian could only assume was Vallaslin (although she had never seen a pattern quite like the one that spread across this woman’s face), she must be from one of the dalish clans that lived in the area.

Marian took off her helmet to appear less intimidating, but when the woman’s eyes widened, she remembered that she didn’t exactly look non-threatening. At all. Between her split lip, new bruise, and the red scar running across the bridge of her nose, which had been broken too many times to count, she must look intimidating. Normally, that was a good thing, but today she cursed herself for it.

“I’m sorry, I’m not gonna hurt you, I swear,” she began, then realized that that’s exactly what someone who was going to hurt her would say. She sighed. “Sorry. My name’s Hawke. Well, Marian. Marian Hawke. I’m messing this up, I’m sorry. Do you need a ride? You can have my helmet and everything.” She wasn’t entirely sure what was compelling her to help some stranger, but the woman looked so miserable and helpless, Marian couldn’t just leave her alone for some psycho to find.

 The woman was looking at her with the widest eyes Marian had ever seen. “No, no, it’s okay, I know you’re not gonna hurt me, you’re too nice for that,” she said. “I’m Merrill. My clan name’s Sabrae. Well, it was, I guess.” Her eyes started looking sadder than usual, but she quickly regained her composure. “Sorry. It’s complicated.” Merrill shrugged, but Marian could still see some wetness in the corner of her eye.

“Well okay then, Merrill. You feel like discussing it over pie? I know a great diner right on the way to Kirkwall. I’m assuming that’s where you’re headed?”

“I’d like that, Hawke. Thank you.” The smile that shone off the small woman’s face was radiant, and Marian couldn’t help smile back.

She handed her helmet to Merrill. “Hop on back, and hold on tight, all right?” Merrill did as she was told, and wrapped her arms tight around Marian’s waist, resting her helmet-clad face awkwardly on Marian’s shoulder.

Marian gritted her teeth and kicked the bike into gear. Her arm was still stinging, but she decided to ignore it until they got to the diner. She might sneak off into the bathroom to check on it then, but before that she’d just have to deal with it. Not that that wasn’t exactly the same thing she had been planning, anyway.

Thankfully, the diner wasn’t far away, and reaching it took almost no time at all. Marian parked the motorcycle outside and entered by Merrill’s side.

The roadside diner was one Marian was very familiar with. She had stopped here often after work, battered and bruised, and their pie always made her feel better after a particularly tough job. The staff there knew her, and she suspected some of the staff were a bit frightened of her.

Merrill followed her lead as she wove through the diner, zeroed in on her favorite booth. It was right in the corner, away from most of the people, but close to the jukebox. She knew that if she didn’t use the old piece of junk, some hillbilly would come and play his awful country crap on it. She gestured for Merrill to sit down in the booth, and approached the jukebox, deciding to put on something a bit calm today, considering her company.

Once she had put on some calm music that wasn’t awful, she sat down across from Merrill. She shrugged off her heavy leather biker jacket, revealing her loose tank top and battered arms underneath. She inspected her arm. The stitches were still there, and none of them had torn. Good. She dropped her arms onto the table and leaned forward.

“So. Spill.”

The other woman looked at her with those big eyes, as though unsure what Marian was referring to.

“You were crying, said you got kicked out of your clan, and seem to need someone to talk to. So. Spill.” Marian wasn’t the most patient of people and she knew it.

“Oh. That,” she said, the smile that had filled her face previously faltering slightly. “I don’t blame them. They just didn’t understand what I was trying to do, how I was trying to help the clan. They acted from a place of ignorance and fear.”

“What exactly were you trying to do?” Marian asked, her curiosity piqued.

Merrill hesitated for a moment, and then started speaking again. “You must have heard some stories of the dalish, and the great people we used to be?”

“A bit.”

“So much has been forgotten. We know almost nothing of who we were before the fall of Arlathan, when our empire spread across so much of Thedas. I was first to the keeper of my clan, and it is a keeper’s job to remember. To restore what was lost. I tried to do that, but was met with fear and suspicion.

“A year ago, our clan found an old, broken eluvian in an old ruin. Tamlen disappeared after coming into contact with it, and the keeper believes it’s blighted. But it’s a keeper’s job to restore what has been lost, and this mirror could tell us so much about who we were!” She paused, and then continued in a defeated voice, eyes downcast. “If only I could get the thing to work.”

“What does the mirror do?” Marian asked, curious.

“Elgar’nan, I have no idea.”

A silence settled over the two women, neither knowing what to say. A waiter approached their table.

Marian looked across the table at Merrill. “This place has the most amazing cherry pie. My treat?” Merrill smiled at her and nodded, and Marian turned to face the waiter. “All right, two slices of cherry pie, please.” She smiled at the man, and he smiled back before turning to leave.

“That’s Anders,” Marian informed Merrill, “starving med student and activist of pretty much every cause he can find. Nice guy, really. Works here to pay off his ginormous student debt. Which, come to think of it, is one of the things he protests. Student loans. Can’t say I disagree with him there. If college hadn’t been so fucking expensive, I might have gotten a degree. Well, probably not actually. But I like to think I would. Truth is, school’s not really my thing. Never was. My goody two shoes siblings all aced that shit, but I never really saw the point.” Marian grinned darkly. “Not like I’m going anywhere in life, anyway,” she finished with a self-deprecating laugh.

Merrill gazed at her quizzically. “Why do you say that?” she asked, eyes wide, as though she couldn’t believe Marian was anything less than perfect.

“Well, I’m not exactly the kind of girl who can sit in a chair and learn all day. I like a bit of action.” She grinned at Merrill. “Maybe a bit too much action,” she smirked, pointing to her bruised face.

“What happened?” Merrill asked.

Marian hesitated, unsure what to tell the woman in front of her. _What the hell,_ she thought, making up her mind, _she’s listened to me this far, hasn’t she? Not like telling the truth to this stranger will have any consequences._

“I’m not exactly a nice person, and my job often ends in fighting. Fist fights, knife fights, the occasional gun fight. Some asshole got lucky today. I was distracted, and he got me. Not as bad as the guy who came at me with a knife though.” She held out her arm, again inspecting the stitches, making sure she hadn’t missed anything at the last inspection. She grinned, trying to make it seem less serious than it was.

Merrill’s mouth was slightly ajar, and her eyes were wide. “But… if you get hurt so much, shouldn’t you get some other job? This can’t be your only option?”

“It’s not, but I like it. The rush, the danger, the knowledge that losing might mean lights out. It makes everything more real when you know the stakes are real. It’s also the only thing I’m any good at. Funny thing is, ten years ago I got detention for fighting, and now I get paid.” Merrill laughed at that.

“You get to do what you’re good at, and what you like, and you’re even paid for it. That doesn’t sound bad at all.” For some strange reason, this stranger understanding her better than anyone else ever had made her heart flutter in her chest.

The waiter arrived with their pie, and they dug in. Through a mouthful of food, Merrill asked, “what do your parents think about that? If that’s okay for me to ask.”

Marian set down her fork and went silent. Her parents. She didn’t like thinking about what they might think about her choices.

After a short silence, she answered the question. “They’re dead.”

“Oh, lethallan, I’m so sorry,” Merrill started, before being interrupted her.

“I don’t think they’d be entirely happy about it, but my dad’s the one who taught me how to defend myself. Don’t think he expected me to expand on that knowledge though. So to answer your question, I don’t think they’d be thrilled, but I don’t think they’d mind all that much either. Well, my dad wouldn’t. Mother would have thrown a fit. She did, actually, when I told her I wasn’t gonna attend college. She had my whole life planned out, and when I wouldn’t play ball, I guess she saw it as some sort of personal failure.”

Merrill looked at her apologetically. “You feel like you could never be as good as your siblings. Like no matter what you did, it was never enough.”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

Silence spread between them again. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but rather companionable, comfortable, comforting. Marian was the first to break it.

“What was that word you called me?” she asked.

“Sorry?” Merrill asked, looking confused.

“The dalish word. Leth-something?”

Merrill turned slightly red. “Lethallan. I’m sorry, I may have overstepped. It’s used as, well, a casual reference to someone one is familiar with, like a friend or a something similar. I- I know we only just met, but I, well, I feel like I already know you, in a way.” She looked down, looking suddenly embarrassed.

“Well, I’m glad you feel that comfortable with me.” Marian couldn’t pinpoint exactly why her heart fluttered, hearing Merrill express fondness for her. She shouldn’t care what this stranger thought of her, but for some reason she did. She smiled. “And, well, I can’t say I’m totally averse to that word.”

Merrill looked flustered again. “I’m glad I didn’t offend,” she said, a small smile appearing on her face.

“I don’t think you could offend if you wanted to,” Marian said, suddenly feeling brave.

Merrill’s face flushed at this, and Marian smiled. Anders came over to pick up their empty plates, and Hawke placed a ten-dollar bill on the table, before picking up her jacket and the helmet. Merrill followed suit.

Something occurred to Marian. “Where are you going to go? Do you have anywhere to stay?”

Merrill looked surprised at the question, but regained her composure quickly. “Oh, I’ll figure something out, don’t worry about me.” The small woman put on a brave smile, which Marian could see straight through.

Marian hesitated a moment, and then blurted out, “I have a spare couch? If you need somewhere to stay? I live with my brother and my best friend, and we’re all very nice, I swear.” She hoped she didn’t sound creepy or predatory, and kept her expression as neutral as she could, even though she knew her feelings were written all over her face. She was usually so good at hiding her emotions, and cursed her apparent inability to do that with Merrill. What had gotten into her?

Merrill’s face lit up, and she smiled, making Marian’s heart skip a beat. “That’s very kind of you, Hawke. I would like that. Thank you.”

Marian could feel her face relax, and her heart fluttered as they exited the diner together. She smiled to herself, feeling happy and carefree for the first time in ages.


	4. Garrett

Garrett had spent an hour getting ready, trying to find the perfect clothes, perfect hair style, trying to look nice but not like he was dressed up. Finally, after turning his room into a mess, he’d settled on a red button-up flannel and jeans, hoping it looked okay, but not having Marian or Isabela there to give him fashion advice. He had almost forgotten how much he depended on them before dates and other important meetings.

He took one last look at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, running his hand through his beard, and walked through the living room and out the door, grabbing his messenger bag and leather jacket on the way.

 

Fenris was leaning against the wall of the coffee shop when he arrived, doing his utmost to look relaxed. His arms were crossed over his chest and his shoulders were leaning back, but his eyes were darting from side to side, watching everyone and everything, and his muscles were tense, looking ready to flee at any moment. He spotted Garrett, and a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Garrett approached him, smiling. Fenris was wearing the same casual clothing he had been wearing earlier that day, jeans and a blue t-shirt under a flimsy windbreaker. The weather had cooled a bit since his shift started, but the air was still warm and the sun was still in the sky, pleasantly heating up any exposed skin.

Fenris straightened as Garrett stopped in front of him. They looked at each other for a moment, before Fenris broke the silence.

“Where are we going?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Garrett smiled. “Just wait and see.” A mischievous smile spread across his face, and they started walking, Garrett leading the way towards the docks.

 

It wasn’t a long walk, and after a few minutes of silence they had reached their destination.

Once an old port city, the docks were yet another important part of Kirkwall history that had been made redundant by technology. Now that ships had better motors and could travel longer distances without refueling, the old port had all but shut down. It was mostly unused now, but Garrett knew there was something happening there tonight.

They descended the long steps leading to what had become a seaside promenade, and were immediately greeted with laughter, music, color, and festivities. On the walkway to their right began a long line of small booths with all kinds of shops and games, and at intervals there were larger attractions. These included rickety old carousels, a stage where five men in colorful clothing were doing acrobatics, and at the very end of the street, a ferris wheel that looked like it was going to fall apart at any moment. Everywhere in that direction people were milling around, smiling, laughing, bartering, eating, children running underfoot, coins clutched tightly, adults chiding them while barely containing their smiles, vendors shouting, buyers haggling, everyone enjoying themselves.

Garrett smiled proudly at Fenris, certain he had found the perfect date spot for the two of them, until he realized Fenris’s gaze was darting from person to person, as though afraid he would be attacked at any moment. His smile fell.

Fenris’s gaze ended up on Garrett, noticing the change in his expression.

“If you don’t want this we can do something else, I’m sorry, I just thought-” He trailed off, knowing he probably had that kicked puppy-look all over his face, but not being able to hold it back. He was unsure what he had done, but he knew he had messed it all up. The sounds around them had seemed to die down, and all Garrett could see was Fenris, looking tense.

A few moments passed as they simply looked at each other, Fenris’s green eyes occasionally darting to and fro. Then Fenris finally spoke.

“I- My apologies.” His eyes were completely on Garrett now, unwavering. “Could we… do this somewhere else?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant, though Garrett could see he was feeling anything but.

Relief flooded through him. Fenris had not called off the date completely, and Garrett was grateful. He smiled. “Of course,” he said, and grabbed Fenris’s hand to lead him toward the right, away from the festivities. He quickly let go when Fenris gave a startled yelp and practically ripped his hand from Garrett’s larger one.

Garrett wanted to kick himself. He offered up an apologetic smile instead, and began walking, careful not to crowd Fenris, who was looking down, almost ashamed. The thought that he had caused these emotions made him almost angry at himself, knowing that whatever Fenris was feeling, he shouldn’t have to be.

Garrett forced a smile onto his face as they walked in silence, desperately trying to think of something to say. Fenris beat him to it.

“What will we be doing this time?” he asked, a half-hearted smile on his face. Garrett felt his chest tighten slightly.

“I know a good ice cream place nearby. If you like ice cream. I hope you like ice cream cause who doesn’t like ice cream? And then we could maybe sit and watch the boats and people passing by? If that’s something you might be okay with doing? If not, we can think of something else. We can do whatever you want, I just…” he stopped talking, aware that he had begun rambling again. Shit. He chanced a glance over at Fenris, and discovered that his smile had strengthened. His heart gave a slight start.

“I… would like that, Hawke,” Fenris said in that low voice that made Garrett’s knees go weak. He smiled, and they walked the last few meters and into the small, colorful shop.

 

When they walked out again a few minutes later, Garrett was holding a chocolate cone, while Fenris was clutching a paper cup filled with apple cinnamon ice cream. They were both smiling as Garrett led the way to his favorite bench, overlooking the water. They sat down.

After a few moments of silence, Garrett began talking. “I used to come here with my family, before… well, while it was still a family.” Well, that sentence had not gone where he meant it to. What was supposed to be an anecdote about the time Carver had pulled Bethany’s braid and she had thrown his ice cream in the sea had turned into a complaint about his messed up family. Well, shit.

He fell silent, noting a small boat outside the port, probably some rich noble out for a ride. He pointed it out to Fenris, and they both watched as it made its way across the horizon.

Once it was out of sight, Fenris turned to Garrett. He hesitated. “Could you tell me about your family?” he asked, looking curious.

“You really want to hear about my messed up family life? Why?” he asked, confused.

“I want to get to know you better,” Fenris replied. “Your family seems like a good place to start.”

Garrett’s heart made a small leap at this. “Okay then, but just remember, you asked for it.” He grinned, but then his face fell serious as he tried to decide where to begin.

“So. My family. I had a father and a mother, obviously, but they’re both dead. I have a twin sister, Marian, and a younger set of twin siblings, Carver and Bethany.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “Father died five years ago, three years before we came here. Mother wasn’t really the same after that, and I think it really affected Marian too, despite her insistence that she’s fine. Right after we moved here, she moved out.” He frowned slightly, knowing he was purposely leaving out the more personal bits of the complicated family relationships. “I moved in with her when I started med school, and we now also share the apartment with her best friend.”

He paused before continuing, Fenris’s nod urging him on. He seemed to actually want to know, and Garrett really wanted to get to know Fenris too. So, law of equivalent exchange, he’d tell Fenris this, the least complicated of all versions, and maybe he’d get to know more about the man sitting next to him. He looked out at the ocean again.

“Bethany and Carver went off to university, and I don’t really know much about their lives right now, other than what I can gleam from the occasional email or short skype-call in between classes. They’re doing okay, I think.” Silence spread between them, Garrett being unsure what else to say. Was it too early to ask something of Fenris?

“What about your family?” he finally blurted out. Fenris seemed to tense up at the question, but then appeared to force himself to look nonchalant and relaxed.

“I know little about them, and they are not important. Where I came from does not matter.” Garrett didn’t know if he had really expected an answer, as Fenris had changed the subject every other time he had tried to ask him something.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying their ice cream and watching the boats.

Garrett pointed to a woman walking by them, dressed in ridiculous and probably incredibly expensive clothing, looking like this was the last place she wanted to be. “Her name is probably something Orlesian. Lady Roquefort or something.” Fenris was looking at him quizzically, but Garrett just grinned. “She’s here to buy some fresh seafood for her fancy dinner party tonight, on which she has probably spent more money than anyone else here sees in a year. What she doesn’t know, though, is that all the seafood here is crap, because the harbor is so polluted. So her entire party is going to go to hell in a handbasket.”

Fenris was side-eyeing him, and Garrett laughed. “Come on, you take the next one.”

“I- What?” he looked confused. “Do you know her?”

“No, of course not! This was something my sister and I used to do when we were little, and it was a lot of fun. You see a person, and you come up with a story for them. The more ridiculous, the better.”

“Well, I’m glad she probably isn’t named after an Orlesian cheese, then.” A smile was dancing on the corners of his mouth.

“Wait, that’s a cheese? I always thought it was just a ball of mold my mother kept in the fridge just to spite me!” He grinned wide, and Fenris laughed that deep, throaty laugh. A warmth spread in his chest just from hearing that sound, and his smile spread wider.

Fenris cleared his throat and gestured to an uneasy-looking man standing outside the door of a warehouse. He began speaking. “That man’s name is Gard,” he began, “He’s here to meet suspect peoples. He gambled away all his money, and now he’s supposed to pay it back. He has the money, yes, but the people he stole it from are not happy in the least. He will be dead by the end of the day.”

“Well that took a dark turn. I like it.” Garrett grinned again, and the corners of Fenris’s mouth turned up.

Fenris often abandoned the more obvious targets for seemingly normal people, but that just made his stories all the more entertaining. That Orlesian man was obviously here to meet a lover, that battered toothless hag was here to meet her network of superspies, because she was obviously secretly the leader of the coterie. He stiffened when he saw a large man with red paint across his face, and quickly diverted Garrett’s attention to a small girl, who he said was a spy for the aforementioned old hag. That noblewoman was an undercover city guardsman, and the short man they saw after her was a professional basketball player. And so they continued on for hours, each story more ridiculous than the last.

Laughter was abundant, and it was only when the sun began setting that they discovered how long they had been sitting there.

They both looked sheepishly at one another, both realizing how long they had stayed, neither wanting to go. The evening was silent, the festivities on the other end of the docks had ended for the night, and everything felt peaceful.

Fenris was the first to speak. “I have enjoyed this evening with you. Thank you. I have not had fun like that in… too long to remember.”

Garrett grinned, putting on fake bravado, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. “We could keep going,” he said, and when Fenris stilled, his eyes went wide. “Oh, no, Maker, not like that! Not that I don’t want to… I mean, I- you’re very attractive, but I- I wasn’t suggesting- oh, Void take me.” He let his head fall into his hands, trying to hide the red in his cheeks. After a moment he lifted his head again, trying to look at Fenris, but being almost unable to look him in the eyes. “I was trying to suggest we go somewhere else to keep talking, because I’m interested in knowing more about you. If- if I haven’t already screwed everything up.”

Fenris was smiling at him now, looking as though he found the entire situation hilarious, and Garrett smiled back sheepishly.

“All right,” Fenris said, then he let out a small shiver. Garret noted the chill in the air, the sun no longer warming them, and the flimsy windbreaker Fenris was wearing. He frowned.

“You’re cold,” Garrett stated, slightly worried.

“I will be fine. It is nothing.”

Garret shrugged off his leather jacket, handing it to Fenris, face stoic, attempting to make it clear that he would not take no for an answer.

Fenris hesitated. “This… is not necessary, Hawke. I am fine.”

Hawke did not answer, simply shaking the jacket in front of Fenris again.

Fenris shivered again, and gave a defeated sigh. “I- all right.” He accepted the jacket and put it on.

It was way too big on his small shoulders, and he seemed to drown in the leather. The fabric settled awkwardly and made him look even smaller than he already had. Garrett gave a small laugh at the image, and Fenris glared at him, making Garrett throw both hands in the air in surrender.

“You look very good in that,” he said with a small smile.

Fenris gave another glare, then sighed in defeat, before finally giving a small smile. “Lead the way, Hawke.”

 

Three hours later, and they were leaving the bar they had sat at. The night had been spent talking about everything and nothing, about politics and books and art and TV and school and work and music, about anything they could think of. Although they had stayed away from more personal subjects, such as family and home and their pasts, they were now headed out with new knowledge about each other, and new certainty about how compatible they were.

Garrett was a bit tipsy, floating on air, feeling almost weightless, grinning like an idiot. Fenris appeared to be a bit better at handling his alcohol, but also looked slightly flushed, and was smiling as he endured Garrett’s awful puns. Garrett was shivering slightly without his jacket, but it didn’t occur to him for even a moment to ask for it back.

They were both under the impression that they were wandering aimlessly until they reached Garrett’s apartment door, his muscle memory having kicked in and taken them where he usually had to go after a night of drinking. Garrett was usually thankful for this, but tonight it just seemed awkward.

Garrett went red, realizing what this may look like. “I-” he began, before he saw Fenris give a small half-smile and look down. He took a deep breath.

He wasn’t sure if it was the fact that he wanted this so bad or the alcohol that made him brave, but he felt invulnerable. He felt like he could do anything. So he did the one thing he wanted to do in that moment.

Garrett moved closer to Fenris and took his face in his hands, holding him gently, reverently, cupping his cheeks and looking into those big, green eyes, praying he wouldn’t be turned down. He took a deep, shaking breath, ready to take a chance…

Fenris was the one to close the distance between them, leaning up onto his toes and catching Garrett’s mouth with his own.

Garrett was taken completely by surprise, and for a moment he was frozen to the spot, unable to do anything but attempt to breathe. _This is happening,_ was all he could think. _This is really happening._

When Fenris hesitantly began pulling away, Garrett was ripped back into reality, pulling the man back towards him, kissing him with a ferocity he was not aware he possessed. Fenris sighed and leaned into the kiss, and Garrett’s heart swelled with love- was it love? Of course it was love. What else could feel like this? He smiled into Fenris’s mouth, feeling at peace.

Fenris stiffened under his hands, and then ripped away. When Garrett opened his eyes to look at him again, he could see the panic written clearly on the other man’s face.

“I- I’m sorry. I cannot do this. I- I need to go.” His eyes were pleading, as though he was begging Garrett to let him go, as though he was not in charge, as though this was something he had to ask permission to do. Garrett took a step back.

“Of- of course. I’m sorry, I don’t know what I did, but I’m sorry.” He knew he had that kicked puppy look all over his face again, but he didn’t care. He reached out to touch Fenris’s arm, then thought better of it and pulled back before he made contact.

Fenris looked down. “It- It is not you. I apologize. I- I’ll call you?” he looked up at Garrett, uncertain. Garrett smiled in relief, grateful Fenris had not just run and never looked back. He pulled a scrap of paper and a pen out of his back pocket and scribbled down his cell number, before handing it to the other man.

Fenris shoved the paper into his pocket and turned around, beginning to walk, still wearing Garrett’s jacket. He kept a fast pace, and Garrett kept looking after him until he could not see him any longer, then unlocked his door and went in, worry gnawing at his insides, Fenris’s pleading eyes fresh in his memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you so much for reading! Next chapter will be up on Sunday, and to be honest, I'm really proud of it, so please come back and check it out! Also I love all these dorks and I hope you guys like reading about them. There's loads more to come!  
> I appreciate the hell out of all your comments, so thank you so much!


	5. Marian

Isabela had that worried look on her face again, but still wasn’t speaking. They were walking home from The Hanged Man, where they had spent the evening losing money to Varric, and a companionable silence had stretched between them. It would be comfortable, if not for the fact that Marian knew something was bothering the other woman. And the fact that Marian still had something kind of important to tell her. Oops.

Marian decided to just get the ball rolling with her own admission.

“So. I may have invited a girl I had only met an hour previous to sleep on our couch. No big deal. Just thought you should know.” Marian offered up an apologetic smile and a half-hearted chuckle as Isabela’s expression turned from worry to disbelief.

Isabela just looked at her for a moment, then a wicked grin spread across her face. “Is she cute?”

“Isabela!” Marian complained and punched Isabela lightly on the shoulder. This was answered with a solid slap to Marian’s ass.

“She is, isn’t she! Has the cynical hired muscle finally fallen for some cute damsel? Has a sweet girl with stars in her eyes and flowers in her hair melted that frozen heart?”

Marian laughed, a smile covering her face. “Well, she did have a flower in her hair, but I don’t know about stars in her eyes. Tears, yes, stars, probably not.”

Isabela looked inquisitively over at Marian, and Marian sighed, suddenly serious.

“Look, it’s complicated, but she seemed really nice and she needed somewhere to stay. So I offered her our couch. I was trying to do something nice, okay?”

Isabela feigned shock, throwing her hand to her chest, mouth open, eyes wide.

“Marian Hawke, nice? Now I have never been this shocked in my entire life,” she said, and Marian chortled.

“You wound me, Bela,” Hawke pretended to be offended, but couldn’t help but smile.

“I would never, Hawke.”

They fell back into silence for a few minutes, walking down block after block, the street lights throwing long, moving shadows, the houses becoming more and more derelict as they began nearing their own neighborhood. When they were around five minutes away from home, Isabela finally seemed to make a decision and opened her mouth to say something.

At that exact moment, two gigantic men stepped out from an alley just a few feet in front of them.

Marian was honestly surprised at the size of them. They must have been at least two meters tall, with broad shoulders and muscular everythings, wearing big leather jackets and with what seemed to be matching paint patterns on their faces. _Some kind of gang sign?_ Marian wondered, quickly assessing the situation. She and Isabela were unarmed, but so were the two men in front of them. She was fairly certain they didn’t have anything hidden anywhere either. She could never be completely sure, but she could make an educated guess, based on how the material of their clothing hung and how they stood. They were big, and looked strong, but she knew that if it came to a fight, they would be slow, and she could use that.

She glanced over at Isabela and saw a mixture of emotion on her friend’s face. Anger, determination, and something that might have been fear.

_So she knows them._

Marian smelled a fight, and shifted slightly, prepared to attack. Bela placed a hand on her arm, and the message was clear. _Wait._

The man on the right was the first to speak. “You know why we’re here, basra,” he said to Isabela, not even acknowledging Marian’s presence. Isabela shifted, retracting her hand, looking angry.

“You might as well go home, cause I don’t have the flaming thing, do I.” She looked at the large man as if in challenge.

“Then you will find it, and you will bring it back,” the man intoned, as the other began cracking his knuckles.

“Or what, you’ll keep cracking your knuckles at me?” Isabela asked, grinning. Marian could already feel her adrenaline spike, and hoped that Isabela would manage to rile them up sufficiently so a fight would break out. The men were big, but she had handled worse. Okay, maybe not worse, but almost as bad. Granted, she hadn’t exactly made it out of that conflict unscathed, but still she wanted this. Needed it.

The man on the left began approaching the two women, and Marian instinctively dropped down into a defensive position. The cut on her thigh from earlier that day protested, and a hiss almost escaped her mouth, but she caught it just in time. She could not show weakness here.

“Or we could kill you, and then find it ourselves. Of course, your death would not be quick. We would need to know where to start our search, and so we would need information from you. The other one, though,” he gestured casually to Marian, “would not be needed.” He looked at Isabela with eyes as cold as stone. “Which will it be?”

Marian could see the rage flash through Isabela’s eyes, and then the absolute calm. Like the sea, right before a storm.

“I say we kill you. How does that sound, Hawke? One for me and one for you?” She grinned, and before Marian had a chance to answer, she lunged.

Marian reacted without having to think first. The man who had been cracking his knuckles previously was only a foot in front of her, close enough to throw a punch right at Marian’s face. She went low as he did just that, ducking between his widespread legs, straightening, and finally elbowing him in the kidneys from behind. The man sucked in a breath, but wasn’t done yet, swiveling to face Marian again.

He lunged at her, aiming for her waist, most likely to try to pin her to the ground, and Marian sidestepped towards the left, avoiding the brunt of it, but still losing her balance slightly. She quickly compensated by stepping forward, and took the opportunity to elbow him in the back again.

She quickly realized that her attacks had almost no effect on him, and quickly decided to change tactics. _Okay,_ she thought, _bullfighting it is._

He lunged, she sidestepped, a smile dancing on the edges of her mouth. He punched, she ducked, a laugh escaping her as she felt the rush of being in control of the battlefield. He tried to trip her up, she jumped, grinning maniacally. And then he got lucky.

He began punching with his right arm, but when Marian ducked, he let his entire body follow. They both went down, the gigantic man on top of Marian, almost crushing her. He repositioned himself, sitting on her chest, her arms pinned under his shins, unable to do anything but kick.

She knew what was coming now. She’d take a few punches, and then they’d probably let them go. They may have said otherwise, yes, and Isabela may have threatened to kill them, yes, but they weren’t dumb enough to kill someone right here in the open, were they?

Marian’s blood turned to ice when she saw the glint of steel from the sleeve of the man’s jacket. He let the blade slip into his hand, and began lowering it towards Marian’s face.

A new hit of adrenaline surged through her, and she managed to free her left arm from its pinned position. Not even thinking, just reacting, she raised her hand and grasped the blade of the knife.

"Fuck,” was all that escaped her, as the blade began digging into her palm. She could feel every inch of her hand, and it was on fire. Everything inside her was screaming at her to let go, but she knew that if she did that, she was dead. She could feel the blade cutting through muscle and tendons, making its way toward the bone, knowing that the longer she held on, the bigger the chance of her losing functionality to her hand.

Her mind was white and hazy with pain, her hand was all she could feel, she had to let go, she needed to let go…

She heard a loud _clang_ , and suddenly the pressure on the knife was gone, and it slid from her hand onto the ground, slick with blood. Marian almost sobbed with relief.

Through the haze, she could see Isabela standing over her, worry on her face, metal garbage can lid in hand. Behind her was a gigantic figure, crumpled on the ground. _They were both knocked out, then. Good_. She let her head fall back onto the ground, attempting to catch her breath.

After a moment, she slowly and painfully picked herself off the ground and held her hand close to her chest, the grin returning to her face as the last hit of adrenaline rushed through her. She had survived. She had won, and she would live to see another day. That feeling would never cease to amaze her, and a laugh burst from her mouth, sounding more desperate and pained than she thought it would. Isabela rushed over to her, ripping the bottom of her shirt into a long strip.

Marian laughed again, and just muttered “crop top”. Isabela smiled half-heartedly, looking concerned, as she began wrapping the fabric around Marian’s mangled hand.

“Alright, babe, let’s get you to the ER.” Marian’s arm was thrown over Isabela’s shoulder, and black spots began dancing on the edges of her vision. Looking at her friend, she noticed Isabela was sporting a cut lip and swollen cheek. They shared a long look, then grins overtook their faces. They began walking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I really loved writing this one because, well, Marian being a badass and fighting people is my favorite thing (and there will be more of that!)  
> Thank you for all your kind comments and kudos, they really make this all worth it! See you on Wednesday!


	6. Garrett

Garrett was woken by a loud noise, and for once that noise wasn’t Marian and Isabela. He sighed and rolled over onto his side, looking at the alarm on his nightstand, digital numbers shining back at him. His eyes were almost glued shut, and the numbers swam a little, but he could read them after a moment’s squinting. _07:23._

The noise repeated itself, and Garrett leaned off the bed and grabbed his ringing phone off the floor. He blindly hit the _accept call_ button. “I swear to the Maker, Marian, if you’ve been arrested again, I am not bailing you out.” He was too tired for whatever shit Marian had pulled, and was about to hang up when a hesitant voice came from the other end.

“I- my apologies.”

Garrett scrambled for purchase in the sheets and sat straight up in his bed, realizing his mistake. _Fuck_. “I- oh Maker, Fenris?” _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Void take him._

“I’m sorry if I am disturbing. I thought it better to call sooner rather than later.” Garrett’s body flooded with relief. He had called.

He realized it was his turn to speak, and was thankful that this was a phone call so Fenris could not see the red creeping into his cheeks. “I’m glad. I really did have a great time yesterday.”

Fenris seemed to hesitate, and then blurted out, “I still have your jacket.”

The line went silent for a moment.

“Do… do you want to meet up somewhere?” he asked, hoping desperately for a yes.

A moment of silence, then Fenris spoke. “Yes. I would like that, Hawke.”

Another tentative silence, and then Garrett cleared his throat. “How about… The Hanged Man? Tonight? Do you know where it is? I can meet you somewhere else if-”

Fenris interrupted him, a small chuckle in his throat and a smile in his voice. “I know where the Hanged Man is. I’ll meet you there.”

“Seven?” Garrett asked, and Fenris hummed his affirmation.

Not knowing what else to say, Garrett let the line go quiet again. After a few moments, Fenris cleared his throat.

“I- thank you. My apologies for last night. I-”

“No, no, don’t apologize, it’s fine, it was nothing.” As the words left his words, he knew they were wrong. It hadn’t been nothing. Fenris had been hurting. Something had happened. It had been something. He pushed the thoughts away, focusing on the conversation at hand.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “It wasn’t nothing, and I don’t understand, but I hope you’re okay, and you don’t need to tell me anything, but I hope we can try again?” The last part was left as a question, and he held his breath as he waited for Fenris to respond.

“I- of course, Hawke.” His voice was almost happy, a stark contrast to his demeanor when they had parted the previous night. Hearing it brought a smile to Garrett’s face.

“I guess I’ll see you tonight then?” Garrett was attempting to sound casual, but probably came off as more desperate than he had wanted. He hoped Fenris didn’t pick up on it.

“Yes. Until then, Hawke.” Hearing his own name in Fenris’s deep voice made Garrett’s chest tighten in a way he could not explain, and he was glad there was nothing more for him to say. The line disconnected.

Garrett smiled to himself and clutched his phone to his chest. Tonight.

He sighed and prepared to meet the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A kinda short chapter this time, sorry, but new chapter on Sunday! So yay for that. Thank you for the kudos and comments, guys, and I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter too!


	7. Marian

Marian’s hand was throbbing, and now so was her head. After getting her hand thoroughly checked out and stitched up, and being told she had been incredibly lucky that nothing had been irreparably damaged, they had returned to the apartment and collapsed into bed, careful not to wake the small shape on the couch.

It was morning now, around 9am, and Garrett had left to find somewhere quiet to study. Marian couldn’t understand how he could do that shit on a Saturday, but he was adamant he would study every day of the week. Poor guy.

Marian straightened in her chair, turning her attention to the Isabela, who was standing by the coffee machine, looking at her feet, tired and worried. They had both woken early, unable to sleep peacefully, both needing a plan, something to do to make this better. And so they were sat in the kitchen, Marian clutching a cup of black coffee, Isabela making a ridiculously sweet… something. With coffee and chocolate in equal amounts, and sugar to boot, it was probably the most sickeningly sweet thing Marian had ever had the misfortune of tasting, but it made Isabela happy. And that made Marian happy.

Isabela finished mixing up her brew, poured it into a big mug decorated with the words _Bi bitch_ /they had seen it on a shopping trip to get essentials for the apartment when Isabela moved in, and both agreed that she had to have it). Isabela carried her overfilled mug carefully to the table and sat down across from Marian, worry in her eyes. They simply sat there for a few minutes, sipping their coffee and contemplating their situation.

Marian was the first to break the silence. “Well… fuck.” They both just looked at each other. Marian sighed. “Okay, what did you steal.” She gave Isabela a hard look, and the other woman looked defiantly back at her.

After a moment Isabela’s eyes softened as she looked at Marian, and she sighed. “All right. I may have stolen a book. A relic. And those big men might be a part of the Par Vollen mob, and the book might be kinda like their holy text. And I may have already sold it. To a fence. So I have no idea where it actually is.”

Marian had to take a moment to process this information, then she spoke again. “All right. Who what when where why.”

“Straight to the point, as always. Who? Well, some fence. I know he worked for Athenril. His name was… Tomwise, I think.” Marian didn’t recognize the name, but nodded anyway, signaling that she understood. Isabela continued.

“Well, what is pretty simple. Some book. A holy text. Written by their prophet or something. Basically, everyone on Par Vollen belongs to a religion known as the Qun, and the book I stole was kinda like their version of the Chant, but it’s the original or only one or something, not clear on the details, so they really want it back.”

“They are gigantic guys shaped like battering rams with knives up their sleeves, and you decided to steal their holy text? Brilliant, Bela. Just flaming brilliant.” Marian knew she was supposed to look angry, but she couldn’t keep the smile off her face.

Isabela spotted it and laughed. “Admit it,” she said with a laugh, “you are so hot for me right now.”

Marian grinned at her and nodded. “I can’t believe you didn’t include me in that heist, Bela. You wound me.” She flung her left hand to her chest, and then winced.

“No, the gigantic guys we fought wounded you. I just hurt your feelings.” They grinned at each other at that, then grew serious.

Isabela continued. “When was a few weeks ago, I guess. I can’t believe it took them this long to find me, to be honest. I’m disappointed in them. Where, well, I got it off a ship that was transporting it back. They were caught in a storm, and like the good samaritan I am, I robbed them. I didn’t leave them to die though, they got help navigating to land, but the tome was mine at that point. I have no idea where it is now though, and tracking it down will take too long, we’ll be dead by the time we find it.” Isabela looked genuinely worried, and Marian wasn’t feeling too good herself.

“As for why, I don’t know, I needed the money, and it seemed like a good idea at the time. I didn’t know these guys wanted it back _this_ badly.” She sighed.

“So, just to make sure I got this right,” Marian began, smile dancing on the edges of her mouth. “You stole the holy text of some giant, battering ram-shaped guys _for fun_ and didn’t expect them to want it back?”

Isabela shrugged. “Pretty much.”

Marian laughed. “You’re a reckless idiot and I love you.”

Isabela grinned at this, and before she could answer, a small voice came from behind them.

“You’re both very sweet together.”

Marian and Isabela both vaulted out of their chairs, preparing to defend themselves, before Marian recognized the voice.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry, Merrill, I almost forgot you were here!” she blurted out, stopping Isabela in her tracks.

“Wait, this is her? This is the cute damsel? The sweet girl with flowers in her hair?” She gave Merrill an appraising look. “you’re right, she _is_ cute.”

Marian glared at Isabela, and then turned her attention back to Merrill. “Sorry. I- That’s Isabela, my best friend and roommate. She’s just being a dick, so please excuse her.” Merrill giggled at this, and Isabela smiled at the smaller girl.

“You want anything?” Marian asked. “Coffee? One of Isabela’s disgustingly sweet concoctions? Breakfast?”

“In bed?” Isabela continued. “With me?” That earned her a punch in the shoulder from Marian, accompanied by a small grin. Merrill went red.

“I- breakfast. Breakfast would be nice. If that’s okay. I mean, it probably is, since you offered, I just… breakfast please. Thank you.” She flushed even redder, and rushed to sit down in the chair Marian pointed her towards as Isabela walked over to the fridge and pulled out toaster waffles and syrup. After the waffles were in the toaster oven, they all sat down, companionable silence between them. Merrill was the first to speak.

“That… book you were talking about.” The two other women froze, but Merrill ignored them, continuing. “I- I think I know where it is.”

Marian and Isabela just looked at her in shocked silence for a moment, and she took their silence as encouragement, continuing.

“A few days before we left, a city elf came to the clan, saying he had something to sell us, but that he needed to speak with the keeper. He said it was something that could help us with the Tevinter slavers who were prowling around. Everyone was scared, you see. Dalish clans are often targeted by them, and their presence was… unnerving, to say the least. He said that if we had what he was selling, a book of some kind, we could bargain with them.”

“This book isn’t important to the ‘Vints, though,” Marian stated. “It’s not theirs, it’s the Par Vollenians’.”

Merrill looked defeated, but Isabela’s eyes lit up at this.

“You’re right! Oh kitten, I could kiss you! Well, I probably will at some point, and it’ll be great too, but _anyway_!” Isabela looked excited, smiling from ear to ear, and frankly, it was making Marian feel uneasy. She shot Isabela an inquisitive look, and she began explaining.

“The Par Vollen mob and the Tevinters have been rivals for ages now, and the one thing they both want more than anything is leverage. And what exactly is the relic to the ‘Vints?”

Marian grinned, feeling like a light bulb had just lit up over her head. “Leverage.”

A moment of silence as Marian and Isabela silently tried to decide whether to bring Merrill (at this point, they had perfected their best friend telepathy), and then Merrill broke the silence, answering for them.

“So, when are we leaving?” she asked, face hopeful.

Isabela and Marian shared one last look, and then Marian answered her question. “Tomorrow. Today we prepare, tonight we go have fun, and tomorrow we head out. We’ll probably be out for a while, so I’m gonna cancel my jobs the next few days, and Bela, you should cancel whatever you’ve got planned. This takes priority.” Isabela nodded, and Merrill looked happy as a clam.

A thought struck Marian, and she frowned at Merrill. “Can you fight?” she asked, worried she wouldn’t be able to protect her if it came to that.

“I’m not good at attacking people, but I can defend myself. My keeper taught me. And I can use a bow. So I won’t be completely defenseless if it comes to that.”

Marian laughed. “A bow? That one’s new. Do you have it with you?”

Merrill nodded in response, and Marian smiled at her.

“All right then, guys. Let’s get packing. I’m just gonna let Gare know we’re stealing his pick-up. Let’s hope he doesn’t mind.”

As Isabela grabbed the burnt waffles from the toaster oven (the poor things had been forgotten in the excitement) while flirting shamelessly with Merrill, Marian shot her brother a quick text. _I’m borrowing your car next week._

The answer back was immediate. _Fine, but if you break it, you pay for it._

This week wasn’t exactly going to be lacking in excitement. She grinned to herself. _Good._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Magic doesn't exist in this au, so Merrill uses a bow. Sorry. But this one was really fun to write, I love my girls! Thank you for reading, and thank you to everyone who's left kudos and comments, they really mean a lot and make me so happy! Hope you guys enjoyed, and I'll see you on Wednesday!


	8. Garrett

Garrett had finished all the reading he had planned for the day, and discovered he still had a half hour before he was supposed to meet Fenris at the Hanged Man. He gathered up his things, deciding to drop them off at home before the date.

He walked out of the small Hightown coffee shop and down the stairs to Lowtown. He hadn’t wanted to impose on Fenris so soon after last night’s events, so he had chosen a different place to study today, a small café not far from the steps connecting Hightown and Lowtown. The slightly more expensive coffee had been a small price to pay for giving Fenris the space he probably needed.

It took Garrett fifteen minutes to get home, and another ten to decide whether to change or not. He felt okay in his red t-shirt and black jeans, but was worried Fenris would think he didn’t care. Casting away that notion, he kept his clothes, throwing on an old jean jacket ( _there’s a reason you don’t use this thing anymore_ , he thought to himself as he felt the way it pulled tight over his arms and back, entirely too small), grabbing his wallet and phone on the way out. He was running late, and he knew it.

Ten minutes later, he was finally approaching the Hanged Man, kicking himself for his lateness, paranoid that Fenris had thought him a no-show and left already. A dumb, irrational, and unsound thought, but one that still made Garrett’s heart speed up a bit.

He entered the establishment, and the scent of stale beer and mystery meat hit him, making him wrinkle his nose slightly. His eyes scanned the room, looking for a shock of white hair, seeing only black, brown, red, blond, nothing white enough to be Fenris…

“Hawke!” He looked towards where the sound was coming from, and saw the white haired man he had been looking for at a small table in the corner, wearing his leather jacket and sitting across from… someone very short. Shit. Varric was gonna screw up his date.

He walked over reluctantly and sat down across from Varric, next to Fenris, careful to give him enough space. The bench they were sitting on was small, however, and he could just barely feel the heat radiating from Fenris’s thigh on his own. The sensation ignited a slight warmth in his chest, and he could feel a small tint of color rising in his cheeks. Fenris looked suddenly very relieved to have him there, and Garrett felt worry rise about what his best friend had told his date.

“So, Hawke. Broody here was just telling me about you two. Or, well, I was badgering him about you two, and he’s giving me less than nothing. Care to fill in the blanks?” Varric grinned at Garrett with one eyebrow raised. “Particularly why he’s wearing your jacket, which I have never seen you let anyone else even _touch_.”

Fenris looked incredibly uncomfortable, arms straight by his side, muscles tense, hands planted on the bench next to his legs. Garrett placed his left hand on the bench between them, not touching Fenris, but close enough that Fenris could feel it there, and hopefully understood the message. _I’m here. It’s okay._

He gave Varric a pointed look, and got a knowing smile in return, quickly followed by a fake-sheepish grin as he flung his hands in the air in surrender.

“All right, I’ll leave you boys be. But I expect all the juicy details later, Hawke. Don’t leave me hanging, okay?” With those words, he got up and sauntered off to find some other friends. Garrett turned to face Fenris.

“I’m so sorry about that,” he started. “He’s nice, I swear, he’s just a little… well, he’s a writer. He just wants a story.” He smiled at Fenris apologetically.

Fenris nodded. “It is all right, Hawke. I did not mind.” They both knew that wasn’t true, but neither pointed it out.

Fenris hesitated, looking like he wanted to say something. Garrett gave him an encouraging smile.

“I- Yesterday was nice and I would like to return the favor. Come.” Fenris was already up off his chair, looking expectantly at Garrett. He was carrying a plastic bag and shifting from one foot to the other as Garrett carefully extracted himself from his seat, careful not to overturn the table (which was littered with half-empty drinks from previous patrons). After a few seconds he was free, and Fenris was walking towards the door. He quickly followed.

The fresh air was welcome as they stepped out the door and onto the Lowtown streets. Fenris turned back to Garrett, set down the bag, and began taking off his jacket.

“You should have this back. I apologize for taking it, I was not thinking.” He had finished taking it off, and was now holding it in front of him, less like an offering and more like a shield. He seemed reluctant to let it go.

Almost without thinking, Garrett shrugged off his own jacket, handing it to a surprised Fenris. When he did not take it, Garrett sighed. “You’ll be cold without a jacket, so I refuse to take it back if you don’t take this one instead.” Their eyes locked for a moment, Fenris looking reluctant to take any more from Garrett, and Garrett was looking back stubbornly. Finally, Fenris sighed, grabbing the jean jacket as Garrett grabbed the leather one, and they both shrugged them on.

Garrett was thankful to be wearing his trusty old jacket again, especially now that it smelled slightly of Fenris. The scent made a calm feeling settle in his chest, a feeling of peace and belonging. He smiled and looked over at the other man.

The jean jacket, which had been too small and tight on Garrett, fit Fenris well, even if it was a bit roomy. The sleeves were the right length, the body of the jacket came down to just above his ass, and the whole thing was just right. A stuttered “you look _good_ ” practically fell out of Garrett’s mouth before he could stop himself. Fenris let out a small chuckle at that.

They turned and began walking, Garrett following Fenris, who was again carrying the plastic bag. He soon realized they were headed towards the docks; the same place they had been the previous day. However, unlike the previous day, once they descended the steps, they went right rather than left, through the area that had been filled with people and shops. They walked down the promenade, passing plenty of people, until they reached the end. Here, Fenris ducked into a doorway and led Garrett up a flight of stairs, through a dusty room with nothing but a wooden box and a mattress, and up a narrow ladder.

Fenris reached the top first, opening up the small hatch and letting in brilliantly bright sunlight before scampering easily up onto… whatever was up there. Garrett kept climbing after him, clumsier than the other man, and bigger too, but still managing to get to the top and squeeze through.

The sight that met him was breathtaking. He had to take a moment in silence, ignoring everything else.

They were standing on a roof, the wide sea spread out, almost unobstructed in front of them. The ever-present slave statues were still there, of course, and the gallows over on the right, but beyond that it was just blue as far as the eye could see. When he turned around, he could see the city lain out before him, Lowtown spreading out, grey and flat apart from the occasional apartment block. After Lowtown, the ground was raised, turning into Hightown, quite literally raised above the rest of the city, reaching up and ending at the Viscount’s Keep and the Chantry on the horizon, easily identifiable by their impressive architecture.

He turned back to Fenris, awe in his eyes, heart in his throat, and mouth open, probably looking like an idiot, but not being able to help it.

The corners of Fenris’s mouth turned up at this, though he looked slightly nervous. “Do you like it?” he asked tentatively.

Garrett managed to close his mouth and smiled. “I love it,” he said. Everything was perfect. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and Fenris was beautiful. His smile widened.

They sat down, and Fenris opened the plastic bag. Out came a bag of apples, a few small dinner rolls, a box of assorted cheese samples, and two bottles of red wine. Garrett grinned at the selection.

“Dinner and wine on a rooftop? Why, aren’t you a romantic.” A flush teased at Fenris’s neck at that, but a smile still tugged at the edges of his mouth.

“I can be, for the right man,” he responded, and now it was Garrett’s turn to blush. “But I also thought it would not do to bring you here without providing dinner.” He began opening boxes and bottles, and Garrett hurried to help. They finished quickly, and faced the city as they began eating.

After a few minutes in silence, Fenris spoke. “Would you tell me more about your life?” he asked, sounding curious.

“Would you tell me more about yourself in return?” he responded, knowing what answer he wanted, but also sure he knew what answer he would get.

A pause, and then, “perhaps.”

Garrett’s heart jumped, and he couldn’t keep a small smile off his face. _That was not a no,_ he thought.

For a moment they were silent, as Garrett considered where he would start. He scanned the city, and after a few seconds, he pointed to a row of apartment complexes.

“See those big ugly buildings over there?” he asked, and Fenris nodded. “That’s where Marian and I live. You were there yesterday, but seeing them from here is pretty different, I guess.”

“What’s it like?” he asked.

“Well, there are three rooms, two of which are bedrooms, the third is a combination living room and kitchen. It’s pretty cramped, but we make it work.” He decided not to give Fenris time to ask another question. “Where do you live?” he looked at Fenris with hopeful eyes, seeing the uncertainty in the other man’s gaze. A conflict of emotion, and then something seemed to still inside him.

“I-” he hesitated. “Technically, nowhere.” Garrett sent him an inquisitive look, and he elaborated. “I don’t have an address or a home of my own, technically, but all my things are in the room under us, and that is where I sleep as well.”

Garrett was aware that he had been quiet for a few moments too long when Fenris finally cleared his throat and looked away, shame on his face. He wanted to save the situation, make Fenris feel better, but what do you say to something like that?

“I- you really live there?” he asked, then wanted to kick himself. Way to state the obvious and probably make him feel even more self-conscious, _asshole_.

Fenris simply nodded, probably not feeling the need to say any more, knowing that Garrett knew that it was a dumb question.

“It’s… quaint?” Garrett tried, wincing even as he said it, knowing the words were all wrong.

Surprising them both, Fenris laughed at that. “Well, that’s one word for it,” he smiled, and the tension in the air dissolved as they settled back into companionable silence, eating and drinking. The wine was going to Garrett’s head, and he knew it, but he didn’t stop drinking it, the familiar and comforting warmth spreading through his limbs.

A question popped up in Garrett’s head, and he couldn’t shake it. The alcohol had made him brave, and so he blurted it out, not thinking of consequences, or what the reaction would be, or whether it was a question he had any right to ask at this point.

“How did you end up here?”

Fenris froze, bottle halfway to his lips, looking almost comical in the way he did not move a muscle. After a moment he slowly set down the bottle, still silent. His eyes were still, fixed on the ground, and he still did not look up. After another long moment he spoke.

“That- that is a long story, and one best saved for another time, I believe.” They were both silent for a long minute.

“I’m sorry,” Garrett finally said. “I should have understood it wasn’t something you wanted to talk about. I shouldn’t have asked, and I apologize.”

Fenris looked at him, that deep, piercing look, and nodded slowly. They fell back into silence, a little more strained, but still friendly.

The sun was beginning to set behind them, and so they turned around in unison, facing the orange light over the harbor. Neither spoke, but the silence turned softer, gentler, and Garrett’s hand ended up next to Fenris’s, barely touching pinkies, both sitting completely still, looking forward.

Without warning, Fenris jerked his hand away and hastily stood up, and when Garrett turned to look at him, his ears were turning red.

“I- it’s getting late. Perhaps we should continue this at a later date?”

Garrett was unsure what he had done to evoke this reaction and almost tried to ask, but he caught himself, knowing he would not get an answer, and knowing that whatever Fenris’s reasons for this were, they were his own, and this was, ultimately, his decision.

“Of course.” Garrett stood, brushing off his pants, smiling at the other man. Fenris seemed to be trying to decide something, looking like thoughts were flying around in his head, conflicting and disagreeing and fighting, until he finally scowled slightly.

“I’ll walk you home,” he said in his low, dark voice. Garrett smiled at him.

“You don’t need to do that, I’ll be fine, but if you really want to, I wouldn’t exactly protest the company.” Garrett smiled, expression open and welcoming, hoping Fenris would still walk him, and that it had not been an empty offer.

Fenris nodded and began descending the ladder to his small room, and Garrett followed, relieved smile on his face.

* * *

It took them thirty minutes to reach Garrett’s lowtown apartment complex, but to Garrett the walk had seemed to take less time than usual. They reached the door far quicker than he would have liked.

Fenris had looked deep in thought the entire way, that conflicted look back on his face, looking as though he was trying to decide something again, every once in a while sneaking glances at Garrett while pretending not to, Garrett talking about everything and nothing while pretending not to notice.

They were standing outside the door, Fenris now looking angrier than conflicted (at Garrett or himself, he couldn’t tell), glaring at his feet. He looked up, and Garrett smiled at him, hoping to soften that stern expression, wanting Fenris to smile at him, wanting Fenris to be happy, wanting Fenris to never feel the need to protect himself with these looks again.

He mentally shook himself. _Stop acting like he’s your boyfriend, stop being so sappy, stop wanting to protect everyone, you can’t protect everyone. You probably can’t protect him from whatever is haunting him._ But he could damn well try, he decided.

Fenris didn’t frown at him, or glare, or look angry at all. He looked apologetic, his face more open than it had ever looked.

“I apologize. I have been distant today, and I have not answered any of your questions, and you probably think I have been acting… strange. I am sorry, and you deserve an explanation, but I am unable to give one.”

“I… don’t worry about it, I’m just happy I got to spend time with you. I really had a great time.” He wanted to kick himself. _Wow, Garrett, that’s original, and so not cliché, and wow, you idiot._

Fenris grinned and let out a small laugh-turned-cough. For a moment they just looked at each other, and Garrett’s chest grew tighter with each breath, remembering last night, remembering the kiss, remembering how their lips had felt smashed together, how Fenris had felt, tasted, looked. Remembering how he had left, remembering how he had looked before he ran, remembering the need to protect him from whatever was making him feel that way, remembering the worry for the other man’s well-being and how he had wanted desperately to make everything better, somehow.

 _Maker, Garrett,_ he thought, _you’ve fallen hard._

He didn’t think, he just acted. Leaning forward, taking Fenris’s face in his hands, he kissed him. Softly, gently, remembering last night and knowing just how vulnerable Fenris might be feeling in this situation. Wanting to ease any fears, wanting to show this man how much he loved him, but also not wanting to push him. He stroked his thumb across Fenris’s cheek, hand shaking, trying to convey even an ounce of what he felt for the other man.

He could feel Fenris hesitating under his touch, and pulled back. “I- I’m sorry,” he started, but then a mouth was on his, and what started as soft, gentle kissing, soon turned hard, demanding, desperate.

Garrett felt his back hitting the door of his apartment, and was reminded again of the last time he kissed Fenris here. How the other man had panicked, how he had run, how Garrett had stood there, worried and alone. He prayed to the Maker that this would not happen again. He wanted Fenris to feel safe with him, he wanted Fenris to be with him, and we wanted Fenris to do deliciously wicked things to him.

Trembling, Garrett pulled away. “Do you want to come inside? Everyone is at the bar, so we have the place to ourselves?” his voice was slightly unsteady, and the last sentence became a question through his fumbling for the right words to say.

Fenris looked at him, and Garrett could feel his legs turn to jelly. There was something in the man’s eyes, something wanting, needing, something possessive, almost.

Without a word, Fenris nodded, watching as Garrett’s shaking hands struggled to unlock the door. When it became apparent that this might take some time if left to Garrett, Fenris silently took the keys from his hand and effortlessly slid the key into the lock. The door opened, and they stumbled into the entryway. Garrett took Fenris’s hand and led him up the stairs in a half-jog, having to stop halfway to kiss again.

Garrett grinned into the kiss, sending a silent thanks to the heavens before continuing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. There ya go. They finally did it and I am so happy for the babes (but don't worry, there'll be lots more angst later, and some answers soon-ish bc Fenris was being evasive and shady as fuck here). I'll see you guys on Sunday, new Marian chapter then, so check back. As always, thank you so much for the comments and kudos (I seriously love hearing from you guys), and I hope you liked the chapter!


	9. Marian

“So, this is where we all hang out a lot of the time,” Marian said, shoving open the door of the Hanged Man while beckoning for Merrill to follow her. The small woman followed her in, looking around with big eyes and mouth slightly ajar.

Isabela wasn’t with them, but the two of them had decided to make the best of this last evening before shit went down anyway. All three had wanted to go out together, but Isabela had needed to take some long calls in order to clear her social schedule for the next week, and she had urged Marian and Merrill to go without her.

They found a table in the corner, then sauntered over to the bar to get them drinks. When she returned, Merrill was sitting with her back to the wall, eyes wide open and rushing to take in everything.

“Hey,” Marian said, announcing her presence while setting down their beers. “I would have asked you what you wanted, but all they sell in this awful place is this horrible thing they call beer, but which I’m uncertain if really qualifies for that name.”

Merrill looked at her quizzically. “If it’s so awful, why do you go here?” she asked, head turned to one side, looking up at Marian with big eyes. Marian sat down across from her, took a sip of her drink, made a face, and answered.

“The beer is awful, but it’s cheap. Ask Bela, I’m sure she’ll give you some sentimental crap about how we’ve gone here for so long it feels like home or some shit. I don’t know about that, really, but it’s cheap and it’s where we always go and no one can be bothered to find anywhere else, so we always end up here.”

“Who’s we?” Merrill asked.

“Usually me, Bela, and Gare. Sometimes Varric. I don’t know, just whoever feels like getting drunk off piss that day.” Merrill smiled, looking slightly amused. “Did you ever get drunk with your clan? Or do you guys not do that?”

Merrill smiled conspiratorially and leaned closer to Marian. “Everyone thinks we’re uptight and conservative and whatnot, that all our stories are very serious and ancient and prudish, but that’s not true at all.” She grinned at Marian. “I have some stories I think Bela would like, actually.”

Marian grinned wide. “Pray tell,” she said, leaning slightly forward, eyes glinting wickedly.

“Well, there is one about the Dread Wolf Fen’Harel and Andruil,” she began, glint in her eyes, leaning forward as if sharing a secret. Before she could continue what would no doubt be an… interesting story, Marian’s phone interrupted her.

Out came the sound of Isabela’s voice, overly sultry and seductive (Marian couldn’t find that anything but hilarious coming from her phone), saying “you’ve got a sext”. Marian leaned back and laughed, but Merrill just stared at the phone, shocked.

“Sorry, Bela must have set a new alert tone for herself,” she explained. “Last week it was a woman moaning. This was a lot funnier.” She smiled fondly. “God, what a dork.”

She swiped open her phone and read the message, leaning towards Merrill so she could read it too.

_Andraste’s tits, you didn’t tell your brother I was staying behind tonight, did you._

Marian looked quizzically at her phone, then replied. _No, why?_

The response was immediate, and both Merrill and Marian fell into hysterics when they read Isabela’s reply.

_He’s fucking someone in the kitchen! This is unsanitary! This is rude! What the hell is he thinking!_

Marian shot back, _We’ve done it in the kitchen at least twice, you know._ Merrill giggled a bit at that, smile growing wider with each text.

_So? This is your prude, tiny, innocent, naïve brother!! Why is he fucking in the kitchen?!_

_He’s built like a lumberjack and that time we got him drunk he admitted to sleeping with his professor. He is neither tiny, innocent, prude nor naïve. He’s just having sex?_

She thought for a moment, and then sent another one. _Besides, isn’t the more important question WHO he’s fucking in the kitchen?_

They began drinking again as they waited for Isabela’s reply. It came after a few moments, Isabela obviously having been just as curious as they were.

_Okay, so I peeked through the keyhole._

_And?_ Merrill and Marian had moved so they were both sitting next to each other on Merrill’s small bench and were practically on the edges of their seats, (im)patiently awaiting an answer.

 _I got nothing._ Marian’s phone buzzed again a few seconds later. _Hey, you think it’s the cute barista dude?_

“Cute barista dude?” Merrill asked, an amused smile pulling at the edges of her mouth.

“My brother’s had a crush on a barista since forever, and he seriously needs to get laid. So we hoped he would get with the guy, and now he hopefully has.”

Merrill nodded. “Then I hope it’s him too.”

Marian typed out her reply. _Please let it be cute barista dude._

The reply came after a few minutes, Isabela obviously having decided to keep them updated. _He just moaned “Fenris”. Isn’t that his name? That’s his name, right?_

 _How should I know?_ Marian shot back.

_He’s your brother, isn’t it your job to keep track of his crushes?_

She didn’t even have to think before she typed out her reply. _No._

_By the way, you owe me for this. I am listening to our tiny, innocent brother having sex and you could honestly not pay me enough for this._

_Good thing I’m not paying you, then. Besides, since when is he your brother?_

_Face it, he’s a little bit my brother too._

Marian smiled, put away her phone, and turned back to Merrill. “So, you were saying, Fen’Harel and Andruil, huh?” Merrill’s face lit up as she launched into the story, completely shattering any lingering suspicions of her supposed prudeness.

* * *

They had talked for the better part of an hour, and when they finally exited the bar the sun had started sinking below the gallows in the west, bathing the streets in orange and pink light. The merchants who had set up shop in the lowtown bazaar were packing up their wares and calling it a day, eager to get home to their families after having stayed out later than they needed in the hopes of selling a few extra items so they could put more than scraps in their children’s bellies.

Merrill and Marian began walking towards the bazaar, side by side, hands barely brushing. Though the merchants were packing up, Marian knew they were watching them, hoping they would buy something, hoping they had money to give.

They were walking slowly, staying close to the small makeshift shops, when something caught Marian’s eye. She approached a small woman selling trinkets, and picked up a wooden ring with elegant carvings.

She studied it closer. The carvings were words in a language she couldn’t read but immediately recognized as Dalish. The wood was smooth and polished, too small for Marian’s own fingers, but it looked like it would fit perfectly on Merrill.

The smaller woman was now leaning over her, her chin resting on Marian’s shoulder, a position that must have been very uncomfortable, height difference and all.

Merrill gasped when she saw the ring. “That’s a Sylvanwood ring! How did you find this?” she looked at the merchant, who now had a calculating look in her eye.

“Found it while traveling in Ferelden. It’s very pretty, isn’t it? It’s yours for fifty bucks.”

Marian gave her an intimidating look before turning to Merrill and seeing the longing in her eyes. She turned back to the merchant again.

“Okay, here’s the deal. You’re gonna stop fucking around with your prices. You don’t know what this is, and you don’t know whether it’s actually worth anything. It has no value to you or anyone else who usually shops here, so the way I see it, you have two options. You can sell it to me for, let’s see…” she pulled out her wallet and began leafing through the bills there, coming up with a wad of singles. “13 dollars, or you can wait and hope that some other Dalish girl comes by, both noticing and wanting this ring, which probably won’t happen for another, oh, I don’t know, two or three years?” She grinned at the merchant, all sharp teeth and dangerous eyes. “So. What’s it gonna be?”

The merchant held Marian’s steely gaze for a few moments, then lowered her head slightly, defeated. She grumbled under her breath as she placed the ring in a small paper bag and handed it over, accepting the wad of cash in return. Marian nodded at her, grin still on her face, then turned and began walking again, Merrill trailing after her.

Marian led her to an abandoned merchants table next to the stairs, partly tucked away in a small alcove. She jumped up onto the table, sitting down in a lotus position, combat boots dirtying her black jeans, and Merrill followed, sitting with her legs pulled up to her chest, facing Marian.

The bag was handed over, and Merrill pulled out the ring. They were silent as she held it up close to her eye, turning it this way and that, studying it carefully. After a few moments Marian’s impatience got the better of her.

“So, what is it?” she asked, voice hard but eyes soft. Merrill looked up, a startled look on her face, but quickly relaxing as her eyes met Marian’s. A smile spread across her face.

She began explaining, voice excited and passionate. “It’s a sylvanwood ring. The material is very rare, and it’s very important to my people. See these markings?” She placed the ring in Marian’s bandaged palm, tracing the symbols winding along the outside and inside as she handed it over.

“It’s Dalish, isn’t it? The writing?” Marian asked, holding the ring close to her face.

“Well, we people are called Dalish, our written language isn’t. But that’s semantics. It’s an old Dalish keeper ring. It tells the story of the betrayal by the dread wolf, Fen’Harel.”

“Wait, is this the same…”

Merrill grinned wickedly. “Yes, the one and same,” she said. “We do have some actual serious stories about him too.”

“Ok, tell me.”

Merrill launched into the tale, explaining how the Dread Wolf had tricked and locked away the Creators and the Forgotten Ones and now walked alone on the earth. When she finished, Marian simply nodded and slung her legs off the side of the table and then slid off, dragging Merrill after her so they were standing face to face.

Her eyes searched Merrill’s for a few moments before she began talking again. “Well, since you’re on your own without a clan, I guess you’re your own keeper now,” she said. “Here.” She took Merrill’s hand, sliding the ring onto her finger.

Merrill looked like she wanted to say something, but Marian turned and began walking again, not letting go of her hand.

They walked home, fingers intertwined, Marian’s heart beating slow, Merrill’s heart beating fast, both trying and failing to keep small smiles off their faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, thank you for all the kudos and comments, and I'll see you on Wednesday!


	10. Garrett

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry about how late this chapter is, some stuff happened and I had to move in with a friend for a bit, and then my computer died and I lost everything I'd written (the original version of this chapter included). That sucked but I have a computer now and time to write, so I'l keep updating. More on how regularly I'll be updating in the notes at the end. Hope you enjoy this super late chapter, and sorry!

Garrett woke to the sound of fabric rustling. The previous night came back to him, hazy and blurry but making his chest feel too full, as though his heart was growing just from these memories. A smile crept onto his lips and he slowly opened his bleary eyes.

He had to blink a few times to make sure he was seeing right, then frowned slightly.

“You… you’re leaving?” he asked Fenris, who was currently pulling his worn jeans up his thighs, then buttoning them and reaching for the jacket he had arrived in.

Fenris’s shoulders slumped, then he seemed to steel himself and turned around, sadness written across his face. “I’m sorry,” he said after a few moments. “I feel like such a fool.”

Confusion must have been written plainly across Garrett’s face, because Fenris continued unprompted. “I can’t do this. Something… happened, and I cannot explain, but I- I wish it had been different.” He turned away from Garrett again, likely to hide his expression, and slumped his shoulders. His next words were quieter, almost as though he was speaking to himself and not Garrett. “All I wanted was to be happy. Just for a little while.”

After a moment he seemed to regain his composure and turned back to Garrett. The sadness was still in his green eyes, but his gaze was unwavering. “Forgive me,” was all he said before he gently opened the door, exited the room, and closed it behind him. Garrett heard rustling in the hall, then another door opening and closing, and when he was sure Fenris was gone, he finally collapsed back onto his bed, chest too tight and head too heavy for him to stay upright.

He had just made up his mind to stay in bed all day when he heard the other bedroom door opening and closing, and then someone ripping open his door.

Garrett groaned and tried to burrow deeper into the covers as an expectant silence spread between him and his new guest. Finally Isabela’s voice sounded a slow and drawn out “well?” and he turned toward her.

Garrett looked at her as though he had no idea what she was asking, hoping to derail her from asking too many questions about what had transpired. Instead of replying, he responded with a question of his own. “When did you guys get home?”

Isabela gave him a sly grin, and then responded. “Marian and Merrill got home after everyone was asleep, I guess.” She glanced into the living room behind her, then turned back. “They seem to have collapsed on the couch.”

It took Garrett a few moments to piece things together, but once he did, the color drained out of his face. “You- you were home.” Isabela only gave him a glance in obvious affirmation, and Garrett buried his face in his hands.

Isabela sounded like she was smiling when she spoke again.

“I’m hoping my having to listen to you fucking was worth it, kid, so please tell me that was barista dude.”

Garrett didn’t respond, his chest quickly feeling too full again. Isabela seemed to be too curious to back off, and another question followed.

“Why did he leave?”

Garrett’s chest was already filled to the brim, and that last question made everything overflow, spilling out of his mouth in hostile words.

“Gee, I wonder, why do people usually leave after sex?” His tone was harsher than he wanted it to be, but he couldn’t bring himself to care just then. He sat up and straightened his back, sending Isabela a vicious glare, but it quickly fell from his eyes, replaced by the same sadness he had seen in green eyes just a few minutes previously.

Isabela looked taken aback by the sudden outburst, but her eyes softened almost immediately. She stepped inside the doorway and leaned against it. She seemed to think for a few moments before deciding what to say.

“Listen kid, sometimes people just want sex. There’s nothing wrong with that.” When Garrett made to interrupt her, she just held up a hand and continued. “Sometimes the other person wants more. Sucks to be them, but they have no right to demand something the other person does not want to give.” Garrett could have sworn he saw something painful and longing cross her face for just a moment, but it was gone too fast for him to be sure.

Isabela continued. “you got a good lay with a handsome guy tonight. That’s a lot better than nothing. See this as a good thing and move on. That’s just the smart thing to do here.” She glanced at the digital alarm clock sitting on Garrett’s bedside table. “Isn’t it time for you to get going anyway? You have class today, right?”

Garrett just gave a groan in response and rolled over, burying his face in his pillow. Isabela sighed.

“Come on you big wimp, you got left the morning after, so fucking what. You can’t let it ruin your entire life, okay? Besides, you probably dodged a bullet. Guys are really fucking needy.” She chuckled a bit to herself, and out of the corner of his eye Garrett could see her gesturing at him with one hand before muttering “case in point.”

Garrett hesitated for a moment more before realizing that Isabela had a point. Not about the dodging a bullet part, but the not letting it ruin his entire life part. He grudgingly sat up and planted his feet on the floor, the covers sliding off.

Isabela gave him a wry smile. “Well, at least the barista wasn’t disappointed.”

Garrett realized too late what had happened and as red spread from his neck to his cheeks, he grabbed at the duvet to cover himself again and then grabbed for something to throw. Isabela easily dodged the balled up sock that came flying her way, then laughed as she swung out of the room into the kitchen, closing the door behind her.

Garrett sat on the edge of his bed for a few moments, annoyed, then began getting ready for the day, both Isabela’s and Fenris’s words dancing around in his mind. He impatiently shoved them away and got ready for a day of studying, deciding not to let this affect him, but knowing it wouldn’t be that easy.

He noticed that his ill-fitting jean jacket was gone from the chair where Fenris had dumped it the previous night, and a small smile crept onto his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! And thank you for all the comments and kudos and stuff, it really makes my day. Next week I'll be without internet so the next update will be Sunday July 3rd. See you then!


	11. Marian

Marian woke to slow breathing against her chest and a gentle warmth pressed tight against her body. The memories of last night were right where she had left them before going to sleep the previous night, and their return to the forefront of her mind made a small smile creep onto her face.

She could hear the clattering of cups in the kitchen again, a repeat of the sound that had originally woken her up, and the strong scent of coffee was spreading through the small communal area. Isabela must have decided to make coffee for them all, not simply making her own sweet concoction but preparing morning drinks for the rest of them, too.

Marian opened her eyes and began carefully disentangling herself from the sleeping woman curled up to her. For anyone else she wouldn’t have bothered, simply waking them up and demanding they get out of her way, but it seemed a crime to wake Merrill when she looked that peaceful.

The fact that Marian had slept closest to the back of the couch complicated matters, as she had to climb over Merrill’s sleeping form to get free, but after a few moments of maneuvering she had both feet on the floor, making her way towards the small kitchenette.

Isabela waggled her eyebrows at Marian’s approach, but said nothing before handing over a cup filled with strong, black coffee and returning to her own drink.

They stood in silence for a few minutes, both leaning against the kitchen counter and savoring their warm drinks. Marian was the first to break the silence.

“We need to get on the road. If we leave in an hour we should be there by midday tomorrow. We’ll need sleeping bags and additional blankets, but the bed of the truck should fit us all when night comes. You wanna check the garage for camping equipment, and I’ll pack food and clothes and shit?”

Isabela nodded in affirmation, finished off her coffee, and turned to put on shoes and head for the garage. After a few moments, Marian did the same, ready to get started fixing this mess.

* * *

Two hour later they were well on their way. The bed of the truck was filled with bags, some containing snacks, some containing clothes, some containing blankets and sleeping bags and first aid kits and anything else they thought they might need on their way up to Sundermount. Everything was covered with a tarp and fastened with cords to avoid anything falling off on what was sure to be a bumpy journey up winding paths and dirt roads. On one side of the truck bed Marian’s bike was lying on its side. She had insisted it be included in case they needed to split up, and none of the others had argued.

They hadn’t argued about the gun in the glovebox, either, but only because Marian hadn’t told them about it.

The front of the truck had a bench rather than two separate seats, and so they all fit side by side. Marian had volunteered to drive, knowing she would go stir crazy without something to focus on, and had used this to argue her case when the decision of who should control the music inevitably surfaced.

The loud rock music didn’t seem to bother Merrill, who was sitting in a lotus position between the other two women, flowers spread in her lap and a flower crown growing in her hands. She had insisted they stop as soon as they entered the forest and had proceeded to pick as many flowers as she could in the five minutes they allowed. She had already finished one flower crown, and it was currently doing a good job of complimenting her, yellow marigolds and white daisies against jet black hair.

There was far more annoyed grumbling coming from Isabela’s side of the bench, but Marian paid it no mind. Isabela didn’t mind the music, she knew, but it was making it infinitely harder for her to focus on the book she was reading.

It was a horribly written smutty romance. Marian didn’t know why she wanted to read that shit when all she did was make fun of all the horrible clichés throughout the book and ridicule the characters for their awful decisions. She always said the same thing after she finished one of these books; it was nonsense, love like that doesn’t exist, and she hoped the characters got tired of each other quickly.

Isabela put down her book while muttering under her breath, apparently having given up on reading for now. Instead she reached for the volume dial, turned the music down to a low hum, and leaned towards her traveling companions.

“Any idea what to expect when we get there, or will we just figure it out as we go?” Both the women to her left just shrugged, and Isabela gave an exasperated sigh. “You two are useless.”

She settled back in her seat, then immediately leaned forward again, excitement in her eyes.

“Guess what! It was cute barista dude!”

A smug grin spread across Marian’s face at the same time as Merrill swiveled to face Isabela.

“So they’re finally a thing, or?” Marian asked, keeping her eyes on the road, but paying attention to what was happening out of the corner of her eye.

“Nah, he left Garrett in bed, apparently. Happens sometimes, but hey, at least the kid got laid, right?”

Merrill frowned, and Marian could just barely see her glancing at Isabela with doubt clear across her face. It passed quickly, and Marian returned her full attention to the road.

A few minutes passed, silent except for the low bass still thrumming through the car’s speakers. The words of the song were unintelligible at this volume, but the bass thrumming quietly in the tune of Marian’s heart made her feel calmer than she had since all this began. The two women to her right made things even better.

She felt something touch the top of her head, then a weight settling into her short hair and small hands pulling away. She chanced a quick glance over at Merrill and saw her staring at Marian’s hair appreciatively, smile on her face, and behind her Isabela was grinning wide, looking as though she had just seen a litter of kittens playing with a ball of yarn, or something just as disgustingly cute.

“Okay, what just happened?” Marian asked, not unkindly. Or at least she didn’t mean it unkindly. It might have come off as brash. She wasn’t sure.

Another glance to her right revealed Merrill still admiring whatever she had done, and as soon as she turned back to the road, Merrill spoke.

“I just gave you a flower crown. It looks very good on you. You look a bit intimidating, even with flowers in your hair! Not that that’s a bad thing, of course, I like it, you’re scary but you use it to protect people, the people you care about at least, and that’s good. But yes, your flower crown, it’s really quite nice on you. Red is your color, so I found red flowers. And some blue ones. Ice blue, like your eyes?”

“Which flowers?” Marian asked, curious.

Merrill blushed a bit. “Well, there are a few different red ones. But the blue ones… Well, they’re called Love in the Mist.”

Marian kept her eyes fastened on the road, and beside her Merrill began working on a third flower crown, using the dark blue and white flowers left in her lap. As Marian turned up the music, a small smile spread across her face.

They must have been a sight, Marian thought. Three girls crammed into the front seat of a pickup, flower crowns in their hair, bruises on their skin, wicked smiles on their lips. Deadly and beautiful.

_Just you wait, assholes. We’re coming for you._

The small smile turned into a toothy grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, another chapter out! Thanks for reading, and thank you for the comments and kudos, they make my day! Next chapter will probably be out Wednesday, I'm gonna go back to the old schedule of posting chapters twice a week I think. It's summer, so I'll have the time. So I'll see you guys Wednesday!


	12. Garrett

It was almost 10 pm, and the late-night Hightown café Garrett was sitting at was closing. He was exhausted. Class had taken its toll on him, and he had barely been able to focus afterwards. Thankfully his next exam wasn’t until next week, but he could still feel the pressure mounting, and a down day like this was annoying to say the least.

He grumbled as he packed up his books and put them in his bag, downed the last of his decaf coffee and headed out the door. Just as he stepped out into the twilight, his phone beeped.

His heart jumped when he looked at the display. _Fenris._ He quickly opened the text.

_Meet me outside the coffee shop in 10 minutes?_

Garrett had to reread the message a few times before fully realizing that what he had read was truly what Fenris had written, and for a few moments he just stood there, blocking the door of the café. He was shaken out of his runaway thoughts when the only other customer cleared his throat behind him and he swiveled to the side, holding the door as the gigantic man exited, answering the man’s gruff, red-streaked face with a polite smile. After the man was a little way down the street Garrett turned and began walking down the steps to Lowtown.

It only took him seven minutes to reach the coffee shop, and the next two were spent wondering why he had been called out here, why Fenris had texted him, why he had changed his mind after this morning. His thoughts were taking him to illogical, improbable and downright ridiculous places by the time Fenris finally came into view.

The evening was warm, and Garrett’s jean jacket was now carried in one tattooed arm. It was only now that Garrett remembered Fenris instinctively grabbing the jacket he had arrived in before leaving, and his heart sank as he realized Fenris probably only wanted to return the lost property.

When Fenris stopped in front of him, Garrett’s first words were “keep it, it suits you.”

It was only after a few moments of silence that Garrett saw how tired Fenris looked. His back was slumped, and his eyes had faint blue circles under them. His hair was a little more unkempt than usual, too. Fenris noticed him looking, and was quick to offer a half-hearted explanation.

“I didn’t sleep much last night.” He shrugged, then gestured for Garrett to walk with him.

They were both silent for a few minutes, and Garrett had no idea where he was being led, but he followed anyway. Simply having the other man at his side and holding on to the hope that maybe they could still be friends even after everything that had happened made the tension that had held onto him all day seep out of his body.

Fenris finally spoke. “I- This is difficult for me, and I am sorry,” he began, staring in front of him, not letting Garrett see more than half his face. After seeming to think for a few moments, he stopped and turned towards Garrett.

He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, his mouth forming a hard line, his eyes focusing on something behind Garrett. Garrett instinctively stepped to the side, letting Fenris pass him and stand face to face with whoever he had spotted. Garrett turned to look.

Fenris was standing tall, all traces of exhaustion gone from his figure, hands balled into fists at his side, tense and seemingly ready to lunge. Before him was the same man who had exited the Hightown café after Garrett just fifteen minutes earlier.

The man was huge, at least a foot taller than Garrett, who wasn’t exactly tiny himself. He had red war paint smeared across his face, graying skin, and freakishly big muscles. _Well, fuck_ , was all Garrett could think.

The man began speaking. “Step aside, we have no quarrel with you.”

Garrett was confused. If they had no quarrel with Fenris, then… _Shit. What the fuck?_ As he began protesting, he mentally ran through every person he might have offended and every wrong thing he might have done lately. Coming up empty, he began protesting anew, this time a bit more coherently.

“I don’t know you,” he began. “You… you must have the wrong person, or think I’m someone I’m not, or…”

The big man turned his icy gaze onto Garrett, and he could feel himself shrink backwards. The man spoke. “You do not know us,” he began, and Garrett’s confusion grew, but immediately halted when the man’s next words shot ice (and some annoyance) into his veins. “Your sister does.”

After the initial shock, he couldn’t help voicing his frustration and annoyance. “Maker fucking damn it, Marian, _seriously?_ ”

Before he could continue, Fenris spoke. “No. You cannot have him.”

The man turned his gaze back to Fenris, and fixed his stare on him. After a few moments, recognition and surprise flashed across his face, only for a moment, and then it was gone. An uneasy chill spread through Garrett’s abdomen.

“You are Fenris.” A vicious grin spread across the man’s face, and Fenris froze.

Even from behind, Garrett could see the panic spreading through the other man. He didn’t understand how one man’s recognition could invoke such a reaction, but he tensed as well, sensing that a fight was coming.

“He has been looking for you. This was a stroke of luck, but how profitable it will be.” The vicious smile widened. “We simply came for that one,” he said, gesturing towards Garrett, “hoping to use him as leverage to recover what was lost. Instead, we stumbled across something even better. You are better leverage than we could ever hope for the whelp to be.”

Fenris’s voice wasn’t shaking, but after having known him for so long, Garrett could recognize his panic. “I am never going back.” He lunged at the large man.

Garrett was frozen for a moment, seeing Fenris move, fast, agile, landing a quick, fierce blow, barely letting the other man’s retaliatory attack graze him, twisting and turning, avoiding and dodging.

Garrett was just about to throw himself into the melee when a shadow spread across his back. He barely turned around before something hit him in the back of the head, hard, and he fell to the ground.

The last thing he saw was Fenris downing the first man and a second approaching him, fierce anger and desperation in Fenris’s eyes, a dangerous smile gracing his lips, muscles tense and ready to fight.

Then everything went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and thank you for the kudos and comments! New chapter will be posted on Sunday! Hope you enjoyed.


	13. Marian

The glances Marian and Merrill had shared on the drive turned heavier and more meaningful as the hours went on. Merrill had long since finished the third flower crown and placed it atop Isabela’s head with a flourish, and had spent the last few hours singing along to songs on the radio. She had first had to convince Marian to switch from her own music to randomly generated pop playlists, but Marian hadn’t been able to resist her for long.

Isabela had joined Merrill in her car karaoke from time to time, likely whenever she recognized a song. Marian had eventually relented, herself, and by the time the sun went down and they decided to stop and sleep, they were all smiling and laughing through hoarse throats.

They decided to stop half an hour before sunset, and Merrill pointed out a small path leading into the forest. Marian pulled onto it and after a few hundred meters they reached a small clearing, Marian parked and they all got out of the vehicle.

“Seems like a nice enough place to set up camp,” Merrill remarked, then left to pace around the clearing, seemingly inspecting for something Marian would probably never understand.

Isabela began unpacking the back of the truck.

“Hey, you make your own choices, but I am not sleeping on the ground,” she said in response to the curious look Marian sent her. “Now are you gonna help me or not?”

Marian shrugged noncommittally. “Maybe. I’m gonna check with Merrill what she thinks first, though, she knows best how to do this shit anyway.”

Isabela nodded in agreement and Marian set off in the direction she had last seen Merrill.

It only took her a moment to spot the smaller woman poking around some bushes at the edge of the clearing. When Marian cleared her throat right behind her, Merrill startled.

“What are you doing?” Marian asked.

Merrill smiled up at her, then stood up, standing comfortably close. Marian didn’t usually like having people in her personal space, but to her surprise, she found that this time she didn’t mind.

“Looking for traps,” Merrill said, and it took Marian half a moment to remember the question she had asked. Merrill continued without waiting for Marian to reply. “This seems like the perfect clearing for home base for a hunting party, so I was checking to see if there were any leftover traps around the campsite, so we don’t accidentally walk into them or something. Cause that would be bad. There aren’t any though, luckily, so that’s a good thing. All clear.” Marian was sure the smile Merrill sent her was bright enough to ward off the night that was falling around them, and her heart felt oddly fluttery. She shook herself and quickly pulled herself together, silently chastising herself for getting distracted, and asked the question she had come for.

“What do you need us to do before night falls? You know best how to do this shit.”

Merrill smiled, then turned her gaze downwards, thoughtful frown on her face. After a moment she looked up again and presented Marian with a list of things to do.     “We need to gather firewood, build a fire, cook dinner, ready our sleeping places, and lock our remaining food in the car.” Marian must have looked confused after the last item on the list, so Merrill elaborated with a smile. “Bears.” Marian made a face, and Merrill laughed.

They began walking together towards where Isabela was sitting in the truck bed, on the square foot of space she had cleared.

“You’ve been productive,” Marian said, voice only half-mocking.

Isabela made a face at her. “Not like you’re any better,” she said, and Marian conceded with a laugh.

“So, we’ve got our work cut out for us. First clearing out and gathering firewood. I’m thinking Merrill finds the firewood, as she’s better acquainted with the forest, and then the two of us clear out the truck?”

Isabela nodded, but Merrill gave a quiet protest from her place at Marian’s side.

“Actually, Hawke, I was wondering if we could pack out of the truck? I… there was something I wanted to ask you.”

Merrill looked like she was trying very hard to keep a straight face, but her blushed cheeks were clear to anyone who looked at her. Isabela chuckled as Marian smiled softly.

“All right,” Isabela said, for once keeping whatever thoughts she had to herself. Marian was thankful, as this spared her the trouble of deciding where to hide the body when Isabela crossed a line.

“That’s fine,” Marian said in response to Merrill’s request and shrugged off her open flannel shirt, leaving only her tank top, before beginning to lift things from the back of the truck. She tried to hide her wince as the injuries on her left arm strained under the weight of a large bag. The cut she’d sustained during a job the day she’d met Merrill hadn’t completely healed yet, and her palm was still pretty fucked up.

It was a few moments before she heard Isabela moving away from them with a few curses muttered under her breath, and Marian chuckled quietly to herself. She knew the reaction her biceps had on her best friend, and she would never stop taking pleasure from it.

For some reason it surprised her slightly that it took Merrill a few moments to get moving too. She smiled at the bag she was lifting and turned around.

“So,” she began. “There was something you wanted to ask me?”

Merrill turned even redder than she had before, and Marian smiled, finding it all very cute and very… Merrill.

“I… please tell me if I’ve misread the situation I just…  think we get along very well and… well that’s quite the understatement I guess… I mean I hope… and I really like you and I was wondering if maybe… only if you want to but maybe we could… maybe I could kiss you?”

Merrill looked flustered and borderline embarrassed, and Marian could feel that fluttery feeling find its place in her heart again. This time she didn’t try to shut it out.

She stepped closer to the shorter woman and looked down at her, smiling. “Yes,” she said, and tilted her head downwards.

Marian placed her hands carefully on Merrill’s waist, not moving them, giving the other woman time to adjust, and felt Merrill’s arms wrap around her shoulders. Merrill angled her head upwards and must have gotten up onto her toes, because a moment later their mouths met.

The kiss was slow, not hard or insistent like all the others Marian had experienced over the years. It was languid, sleepy, relaxed, it was like dancing to a slow jazz song, like sleepy nights in front of a fireplace, safe and secure and loving and slow and sweet.

It was over quickly, and Merrill smiled through the blush rising in her face, arms still around Marian’s shoulders. She slowly and carefully let go and dropped back down onto the soles of her feet.

Marian could scarcely breathe, loving the way her chest was tightening and the way her breath was catching. Never mind that she didn’t deserve any of this, and never mind that this was a complete unknown for her (except for those rare moments in bed with Bela, which had felt slightly like this… but thinking about those instances was just confusing her, so she pushed the thoughts away), she wanted more of it. The unknown was not something Marian usually liked, but she thought perhaps she might make an exception here.

Despite her fright, and despite her unworthiness, Marian wanted more. “Yes or no?” she asked, still looking at Merrill and her big green eyes and beautiful facial tattoos and braided hair and thin lips and…

“Yes,” Merrill breathed, and Marian kissed her again.

They pulled away when an exaggerated cough sounded behind them.

“So…” Marian could hear the amused smile in her voice, but couldn’t stop looking at Merrill. “Being productive, I see?”

“Fuck off,” Marian replied, the usual ferocity gone from her voice. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Fuck off,” she said again, this time with more feeling.

Isabela apparently knew not to take it personal by now, and she laughed before replying. “Don’t corrupt the innocent Dalish girl too much, will you? Unless I get to join. I get to join in your corruption, right Kitten? Please?”

There was humor in Isabela’s voice, but not as much as Marian would have expected. She looked at her for a moment, quizzically, then cast whatever suspicion she might have harbored out of her mind.

“All right, let’s get back to work. You finished?” she asked, ignoring the fact that she and Merrill had barely even started their job.

Isabela held out and armful of firewood, twigs and branches of varying sizes, and Merrill nodded approvingly.

“I’ll go build a fire and you two can finish unpacking the truck, all right? Remember, lock the food in the cab. Bears.” She took the firewood from Isabela and proceeded to stack it a few feet from the rear of the truck. Isabela and Marian got to work, and soon the truck bed was empty save from their sleeping bags.

They cooked dinner and ate together, talking about everything and nothing, all three flirting constantly, and before long they were all dead tired.

They piled into the bed of the truck, finding their respective sleeping bags and settling down for the night. Merrill was squeezed between Marian and Isabela, her head resting on Marian’s outstretched arm, and Isabela’s fingers eventually intertwined with Marian’s over Merrill’s waist. They all fell asleep at the same time, and before long, the only sound in the clearing was their soft breaths and beating hearts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and kudos and comments make my day, so thank you for those too! New chapter will be up on Wednesday, and after that I'm actually considering making the post schedule more frequent, I'm so far ahead of schedule (it's summer and I have so much free time) and I have like 4 chapters just sitting in my docs waiting to be posted... so that might happen. Thanks for reading and I hope you liked the chapter!


	14. Garrett

Garrett came to with a groan and attempted to sit up. He immediately had to lay down again as the world started spinning. He groaned again.

After a few moments of controlled breathing, he opened his eyes and tried again, with better results this time. Finally upright and aware, he took a moment to view his surroundings.

He was seated on a thin mattress, back against a rough wooden wall, in a room empty except for a wooden box in one corner. After a few moments of confusion, he recognized his surroundings.

His gaze finally landed on the man sitting against the wall a few feet to his right, and a sharp hiss made its way through tight lips when he saw the state he was in.

Fenris’s head shot up out of where it had been, burrowed into his knees, which were pulled against his chest. He was wearing a short sleeved shirt and jeans, and his clothes did nothing to hide the bruises splashed across his dark skin.

There was a big one on his left forearm, probably from blocking a blow, one closer to his right shoulder, where he must have been struck from the side, and based on the scraped skin on his other shoulder, knocked to the ground. His lip was split, and the lower part of his cheek on the left side of his face was bruised as well.

Fenris stood, steady as always, giving no sign of pain or discomfort, and walked over to where Garrett was sitting. He gave Garrett an odd look, and Garrett realized he was still looking worriedly at the bruised man. Fenris just held out his bruised and split knuckles, said, “you should see the other guys,” and sat down next to him.

Garrett’s worry abated slightly at this, but not enough to put him at ease. After a few moments of silence, Garrett tried to speak, barely managed a squeak, cleared his throat, and tried again.

“I’m sorry.”

Fenris didn’t respond. Silence stretched between them again, and then Fenris stood, gestured for Garrett to follow him, and began climbing the ladder to the roof where they’d had their second date.

Garrett followed, wincing slightly at the way his head throbbed when he stood, but quickly steeling himself and making his way up the ladder and through the hatch. When he emerged, the sun was rising, beautiful and bright over the rooftops of Lowtown and Hightown alike.

Fenris was sitting with his back to the sunrise, his back and shoulders bathed in light, his face and chest cast in shadow. Garrett walked over and sat down next to him, not too close, giving him space, mindful of the events of the previous morning.

As soon as Garrett sat down, Fenris began speaking.

“What has your sister done to send those men after you?” he asked, voice hard and carefully controlled. “And why is your sister even involved with the Par Vollen mob? What does your sister actually do?”

Garrett could hear the panic behind the control in Fenris’s voice, and his heart ached for the other man and what he must be feeling, though he had no idea where it had come from.

“I don’t know. She never tells me about her work, and I never ask. Plausible deniability, she jokes. I know whatever she does, it can’t be good, and most of it can’t be legal.” Worry was beginning to gnaw at him. What in the Void had Marian gotten herself mixed up in?

An idea popped up. “I could call her and ask? I don’t have to be specific if you want me to keep some of this quiet, I could just ask her why they’re asking about her?”

Fenris hesitated, then nodded, making Garrett pull out his phone, pull her up from speed dial, and put his phone on speaker so he wouldn’t have to repeat her answers afterwards. She answered on the fifth ring.

 _“Andraste’s ass do you have any idea what time it is?”_ was the greeting he received, and he couldn’t help but grin slightly. What an asshole his sister was.

“Sorry, I know it’s early, I just… I need you to tell me something and I need the whole story, it’s really important, but I can’t say anything else about why I need to know this stuff.” The line was silent for a moment, so he hastily added “A truth on credit.”

He could almost hear the wicked smile across the phone line. _“I get to ask you anything, and you have to answer fully and truthfully?”_ The smile was even more evident in her voice, and Garrett knew he was going to regret this later.

“Yes. But later, I have… company.” He flicked a glance over at Fenris, who was sitting still, an amused smile gracing his face.

A chuckle came at him from the other end of the line, lasting only for a moment, and then silence. And then finally, _“okay, shoot.”_

“How are you connected or involved or whatever with the Par Vollen gang?”

The line was quiet for a moment, then he heard shuffling, presumably as she moved out of earshot of whoever she was with on that road trip she had told him she was taking.

 _“They approached you,”_ she finally replied. The dangerous inflection in her voice warned him that something was off about these guys.

“Marian. Please.”

_“Okay, just… did they hurt you?”_

“I’m fine. Stop being me, ignore my well-being and tell me what I need to know, please.” It was a low blow, he knew, but he didn’t have time to lead her back on track gently. He knew this wasn’t about taking care of him, anyway, this was her protective streak coming out, the one that developed after their parents died, the one that said _hurt one of mine and I hurt you back._

 _“Fuck off.”_ She was silent for a moment, maybe collecting her thoughts, maybe cursing him under her breath, Garrett didn’t know. Then she started talking again.

_“Long story short, Isabela stole something important from them, then sold it, they attacked us a few nights ago, we’re now headed up to Sundermount to talk to the Keeper of the Dalish clan there because we met Merrill, who was thrown out of that clan and knows they have it, because the Dalish wanna use it as leverage against the Vints. Apparently they have a pretty heavy presence here, kidnapping Dalish for the slave trade._

_“They think if they can give that book to the Vints, they’ll leave them alone, since the Vints and Par Vollenians have some sort of feud going on. The book is leverage, and now we need it back, so we won’t get murdered.”_

He looked over at Fenris, who looked like he was grasping for something, anything that could help him eliminate whatever threat he had discovered the previous night, but finding nothing. Garrett didn’t know how to help him, and could do nothing. The helplessness felt like a stab to his chest.

He turned his attention back to the phone call. “Thank you, Marian. I have to go, but let me know if you need anything, okay?” He knew he sounded distant, but his attention kept flicking back to the now angry man next to him. He quickly added “and keep me updated, please,” before ending the call without giving Marian time to reply, putting away his phone, and turning to face Fenris.

For what felt like ages, none of them spoke. Then Fenris broke the silence.

“I wanted to leave my past behind me, but it won’t stay there.”

Garrett didn’t know what to respond to this, and stayed quiet. After a few moments, Fenris continued.

“I had come to you with the intention of preserving our friendship,” he began, eyes fixed on some point in front of them, not looking at Garrett. “I did not want to lose it, despite what happened between us. I- I wanted this, but… Friendship is the most I have to offer. Before I say more, you need to understand this.” At this point he turned to Garrett, fixing him with those big green eyes, looking desperate for Garrett’s understanding.

Garrett nodded, and Fenris continued. “The Par Vollenians we met last night recognized me. They got away once they discovered they could not take me on their own. They will report back, they will come after me again, and it will get back to him. He will know where I am. He will find me again. I cannot let that happen.”

Garrett was confused, but more than that, he was worried. This sounded bad. Bad, bad, bad. He didn’t know what to do, didn’t even know what the other man was talking about, didn’t know whether he should stay quiet and let Fenris’s monologue run its course, whether he should ask questions and prompt it, whether he should offer encouragement.

He decided to ask questions. “Who is he?”

Fenris looked at Garrett, meeting his eyes. “My former master. I was a slave.”

Everything clicked, and suddenly Garrett understood. “You’re from Tevinter. That’s why you couldn’t get a real address, you don’t have any papers. That’s-” Garrett realized something. “He’s powerful, isn’t he. Shit.”

Fenris nodded. “He is. His name is Danarius,” Fenris spit out the name as though simply speaking it left a bad taste in his mouth, “and he controls the activities of all Tevinter criminal enterprises in the Free Marches. He has contacts, connections, anything one might need to track down and capture a runaway slave.”

Garrett could feel anger bubbling up inside him. An unfamiliar feeling, one he didn’t let himself feel often, one he usually pushed down and hid when it appeared. This time he let it boil over.

“He can’t have you. I won’t let him.”

Fenris shot him a smile that was equal parts thankfulness and amusement. “A nice sentiment, but you cannot fight. You were downed as soon as someone targeted you last night.”

“Then teach me.” Garrett’s gaze was hard and unwavering as he looked into Fenris’s eyes. Never had he thought he would ask someone to teach him to fight, but as they say, desperate times.

A thin smile spread across Fenris’s lips. “Good. Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it! And thank you for the comments and kudos, they make my day! Next chapter will be up Friday in stead of Sunday, I'm pushing up the post schedule because I'm really far ahead of schedule (it's summer and I have more time to write!) with lots of unposted chapters saved, and I want to get this out faster so I can focus on some of the other things I really want to write (so many ideas, so little time). I also made a writing blog, with posts about what I'm writing, jokes at my own expense, chapter updates, and stuff like that! It's dirtherawrites.tumblr.com if anyone feels like checking it out! As always, thank you for reading, and check back on Friday for a new chapter!


	15. Marian

Marian was left staring at her phone, a scorching but contained anger eating through her slowly. _I swear to the bloody Maker, if they’ve touched even a hair on my brother, I will fucking end them_ , she thought to herself. She let the red hot emotion burn through her until she felt alive again, no longer tired and anxious, but angry and energized.

As she compressed the anger into a small and manageable ball she could tuck away neatly, ready to be pulled out whenever she might need it, she became aware of footsteps approaching behind her. She turned to see Isabela, yawning and grinning at her.

“You look like you’re ready to kill someone. It’s not me, is it? I told you that boob grab was accidental,” Isabela said with a smile.

Marian deflected, as she always did. “Maybe I liked that boob grab.” Her voice was more challenging than joking.

Isabela grinned at her. “Yeah, well in that case it was intentional.” After a moment of consideration, she spoke again. “But you shouldn’t enjoy shit like that. Didn’t you kiss Merrill? Haven’t you finally settled down with your one and only like the good Andrastian girl you are? Aren’t you supposed to stay true to the end and shit?”

Isabela’s grin was mocking, and yet it still awakened something hot and fierce in Marian. Marian stepped closer to the other woman, getting into her personal space until her face was inches from Isabela’s.

“Shut up,” she said, and Isabela grinned even harder.

“Make me,” she responded, and then Marian’s mouth was on hers, and her hands found their usual places, one knotted in Isabela’s hair and the other pushed roughly against the small of her back.

She knew she shouldn’t, but still she fell into it head first, needing to satisfy some fierce and unyielding demand, some insatiable need.

The kiss was a stark contrast to the one she had shared with Merrill the previous night, hard and insistent, all tongue and teeth and a silent ferocity that left them both breathless. Where kissing Merrill had been sleepy nights in front of a fireplace, kissing Isabela was removing the grate and pouring gasoline all over the living room. The heat and strength of it roared between them, a fire out of control, creating and consuming in equal measure.

After a few moments Marian pulled away, head spinning, pushing down the familiar tug in her chest that appeared whenever she was close to Isabela.

“Finally, a bit of peace and quiet,” Marian said when Isabela didn’t speak, trying to distract from the feelings she was scrambling to condense into a tight ball in her chest again.

“Shouldn’t have done that,” Isabela said, slight frown on her face, “cause if you hurt Kitten, I’ll have to hurt you.” _Never mind that Isabela had been as into it as I’d been,_ Marian thought.

She then shrugged, poker face in place to conceal that she wasn’t completely unaffected by the remark, still struggling to push away her feelings. Guilt welled up for a moment before she managed to push it down again. “Merrill and I never said we were exclusive,” she replied with a dismissive gesture.

Isabela looked at her for another moment, considering whatever she was seeing as Marian pushed her feelings away again, and then she shrugged too and made a “whatever” gesture. She seemed to remember her original question, and continued down that path again.

“So, you really do want to kill someone, I could feel it. Felt like you were trying to murder my tongue for a moment there,” she joked, and when Marian didn’t even smile, she continued, more serious now. “What’s going on?” she asked.

Marian scowled back, not collected enough to be civil yet. “Garrett called.”

After a moment Isabela gestured at Marian, eyes wide. “And?”

“He asked about the Par Vollenians. I think they attacked him.”

Isabela’s silence was unusual, but understandable in light of the information Marian had just shared. Of course, it didn’t last long.

“Then why is he still alive?” she asked. The venomous look Marian sent her led her to explain herself. “Nothing against the kid, but we just barely survived together, and he’s one dude without any of our experience, so my question is a valid one, Hawke, and you know it.”

Marian hesitated, then nodded, signaling that she agreed. “Maybe he had help.”

“Maybe,” Isabela allowed. “Is he hurt?”

“I don’t know, but I do know that if they’ve hurt him I’m gonna kill them.” She flashed a vicious grin. “Well, I probably will anyway, but if they’ve hurt him I’m gonna enjoy it more, and they’ll enjoy it a hell of a lot less.”

Isabela didn’t react to Marian’s savage sentiment, but glanced over to the bed of the truck instead. She turned back and addressed Marian again. “Doesn’t really matter right now though, we’ve still got a job to do and your brother’s still alive. Let’s go wake up Merrill, okay? Leave some angry threats of violence for later, we might need them when we talk to that Keeper lady.”

Marian nodded in agreement and followed Isabela over to the truck.

An hour later they were back on the road, sat in the exact same order they’d sat the previous day. Marian still didn’t want to sit with nothing to do, so she had insisted on taking the wheel again. This time Isabela picked the music, as the two other woman had had their turns already, and soon the cab was filled with fun summery pop.

It only took them a few hours to reach the Dalish camp, and so they arrived just before noon, feeling restless and very ready to finish this and get back to their lives.

Isabela was first out of the cab, opening the door almost before Marian had even stopped the truck in a small parking space a few feet from the entrance to the camp. Merrill followed only after the vehicle had come to a complete stop, and Marian wasn’t far behind. She elected to leave the gun in the glovebox, as they were only going to have a small talk about the book, and waving a gun in an old woman’s face wasn’t really Marian’s style. In this situation it probably wouldn’t produce viable results anyways.

Merrill began guiding them on the path towards the camp, seeming to grow more nervous with each step. Marian was aware that she and the clan hadn’t parted on good terms, but until now she hadn’t known it had been that bad. She increased her tempo so she was side by side with Merrill, then placed a reassuring hand on the small of her back. Merrill smiled up at her and squared her shoulders, immediately gaining a confident air she had lacked before. Marian couldn’t help but smile at this development.

Isabela cleared her throat behind them, and the two women turned to look at her.

“I’m feeling decidedly lonely over here,” she said, her voice exaggeratedly sultry, “You want to include a poor woman in whatever this,” she gestured between Marian and Merrill, “is?”

Marian feigned annoyance even as her heart skipped a beat. She shoved whatever that was down to the bottom of her consciousness, slightly irritated at herself.

Merrill was blushing, but Marian elected not to give any further reaction to what she knew was simply a joke disguised as a question, even as Isabela quickened her pace and ended up on the other side of Merrill.

“All right, Kitten, what do you need us to do when we meet this lady?” she asked, suddenly serious. Marian had never thought Isabela to be of the helpful sort, but to be fair, Merrill had changed a lot of things the last few days.

“I- I don’t know.” Merrill sounded decidedly nervous. “I’m thinking we just ask our questions and hope for the best?”

“And if she doesn’t want to tell us what she knows?” Isabela asked.

“Well,” Marian cut in, “I’ve found that threats of violence always do wonders to promote cooperation.” She grinned at the two other women.

Merrill didn’t exactly look overly enthusiastic at that suggestion but smiled nevertheless, and Isabela just flashed a grin in agreement.

After a few moments of silence Merrill spoke again, seeming more nervous than before. “She… well, she might bring up the eluvian. And you both deserve to know what this is about. So… I’m gonna try to explain it as well as I can.” Merrill took a deep breath, then began speaking again, quicker than before.

“Four years ago our clan found a broken eluvian in an old ruin. One of our own had already disappeared in connection with it, and so everyone was understandably on edge. And that is understandable, it really is, someone disappeared and it is unknown but it is also a part of our history and we cannot afford any more pieces of that history!” Merrill’s expression saddened and she cast her eyes downward. “So much has already been lost.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

She straightened again and her voice regained its fierceness and volume as she continued. “So I started trying to piece it together. The others didn’t understand, they said I should abandon it, but I have learned so much! As First I learned about the history of our people, and in addition to that no one in the clan knows more about old technology than I do. So if I don’t work to restore this relic, who will? I had to do it, it could tell us so much about our past!”

Merrill looked from Marian to Isabela and back again, her eyes pleading with them to understand. Marian nodded in support and gestured for her to continue. Merrill obliged.

“They were angry and scared. I couldn’t stay. They didn’t understand, and I wouldn’t force them to stay so close to something they were this scared of. So I left and took the Eluvian with me.”

Marian was confused. “You said they threw you out.”

Merrill smiled gently. “No, I didn’t. You assumed, and I was too tired to correct you. It was almost true, anyways. They might not have formally kicked me out, but they did make it impossible for me to stay. I had to choose between restoring our history or staying with my clan. I chose the Eluvian.”

Marian felt a stab of sympathy. She knew what it was like to lose family, and she wouldn’t wish it on the girl she… liked a lot.

“Is the eluvian some sort of technology? What does it do?” Isabela asked.

“Yes, it is. I have no idea what it does, though.” Merrill sighed. “That’s all there is to know about the situation, though. If the Keeper brings it up, you won’t be completely in the dark. I’m sorry. This might get very uncomfortable, there are still a lot of old prejudices left.”

They stopped talking as they entered the camp. Merrill began walking with that confident air again despite the glares that were sent her way, and Marian was quick to glare threateningly at anyone and everyone who looked even the least bit hostile. They continued unobstructed through the camp until they reached an old woman Marian assumed to be the Keeper.

Merrill stopped in front of the woman. After halting she neither bowed nor curtsied and gave no sign of submission, and pride welled up in Marian, bringing a grin to her face. She knew it looked vicious when the woman blanched slightly at noticing her.

The Keeper turned her attention to the two strangers first, apparently electing not to acknowledge her returned First.

“Welcome, strangers. I am Keeper Marethari. What is your business here with clan Sabrae?”

Before Isabela could start explaining the situation, Marian spoke up. “You’re not even going to acknowledge Merrill?” she asked angrily.

The Keeper turned her stern gaze on Marian, and Marian held it, refusing to flinch away. After a few moments the older woman nodded, apparently satisfied with whatever she had found in Marian’s eyes, and turned her gaze on Merrill.

“You return to us, da’len,” she said, eyes still stern, but slightly softer than when they’d been focused on Marian.

Merrill looked stiff and nervous and as though she would rather be anywhere but here, but she still met the Keeper’s eyes, gaze steady.

“Hello, Keeper.”

“Have you reconsidered this path at last?” the Keeper asked, and the set of Merrill’s eyes turned less friendly.

“Have you reconsidered your old prejudices and misplaced caution?” she responded, and Marethari’s eyes turned sterner again.

“Da’len, we have been through this. That mirror is dangerous. You cannot predict what will…”

Isabela cut her off. “Oh fuck off,” she began, and when Marethari looked offended and as though she was about to chastise Isabela, she barreled on. “Merrill is perfectly capable of judging the risks herself. She knows the risks better than anyone, and no one is better qualified to do this shit for you.” The Keeper was about to interrupt her again, so Isabela held up a hand to silence her and increased the ferocity in her voice. “Merrill is not some delicate child who doesn’t know their own good, she is a grown woman, a damn smart and resourceful woman, who is better than any of you could hope to be. Stop acting like you know better than her and just back. The fuck. Off.”

Isabela looked angrier than Marian had ever seen her, and Marian couldn’t help the grin that consumed her face.

Merrill looked grateful, and Marian could see her send Isabela an admiring look that turned into a silent thank you when Isabela turned to look at her.

Isabela turned back to the Keeper, who was now standing speechless.

“So, if that’s settled, let’s get on to the reason for our visit. You have a book we need. It was given to you by Tomwise, it’s important to the Par Vollenians, and you’re planning on giving it to the Vints. We need it, and you’re gonna give it to us, okay?” Isabela’s angry expression gave no room for argument, and Marian gave silent thanks to the Maker that she wasn’t on the receiving end of that anger.

“I’m sorry, child, but I cannot give it to you.” The Keeper’s poker face was admirable, considering the situation, but ultimately, Marian knew, hopeless.

Isabela stepped closer to the old woman, clearly conveying her silent threat of bodily harm. Merrill reached out and placed an arm on Isabela’s shoulder, silently pulling her back, and surprisingly, Isabela obeyed. She still sent Marethari a murderous stare, and Marian couldn’t help but be even more impressed at this display.

Isabela’s voice was ice when she spoke again. “What do you mean, you can’t?” she asked.

“It is not in our possession anymore. The deal has already been made, and the transaction completed.”

Marian’s heart fell, and a feeling of hopelessness welled in her, but she quickly pushed it down, focusing instead on what to do next.

Isabela was a step ahead of her, and used their usual shorthand. “Who when where?” she asked.

The Keeper kept a level gaze as she responded, not giving any indication that this conversation was having any effect on her.

“You are only a day late, child, so you may still have a chance to recover this book. However, it may be slightly harder than you anticipated. It was given to a Tevinter crime lord. He controls all criminal enterprises in the free marches, or so I’ve been told. The relic was delivered to the entrance of a cave system a few miles north of here. If I am not mistaken, there is still a presence of this crime lord’s men there. You may find the information you need to recover this book there.”

Satisfied, Marian turned to her companions. “I believe that’s all?” There was a question in her voice, giving Merrill an opportunity to butt in if she had anything to add, but the two women with her simply nodded. She turned back to the Keeper.

“We’ll be leaving now,” she said, not even pretending at civility. “And just for the record, you’re in the wrong and you don’t deserve Merrill.”

With that she turned on her heel and exited the camp, Merrill and Isabela at her heels.

When they were back in the car, Marian sat down on the driver’s seat, legs hanging out of the truck, and pulled out her phone. When she noticed Isabela’s questioning look, she explained.

“I’m gonna update Garrett on the situation. Tell him what happened, what we learned, and that we’re gonna be away for a bit longer. It’ll only take a moment.”

Marian settled in as the two other women waited, and then she placed the call as she watched them standing close, talking quietly together. She listened to the dial-up as whatever Isabela had said brought a warm smile to Merrill’s face, and smiled herself when Isabela kissed the top of Merrill’s head.

Then the phone connected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the romantic plot thickens, ey? ;) And the plot-plot. I hope you liked this chapter, and thank you for reading! Next chapter will be up on Sunday!


	16. Garrett

It was early morning when Garrett was woken up, and shortly after he found himself on the roof with Fenris, dressed in loose sweatpants and one of Fenris’s old shirts. He knew it was too tight, but it was better than using the same shirt for the third day in a row. He’d had to agree when Fenris had told him he couldn’t go home to get things, knowing that meeting the Par Vollenians for a second time would be even less pleasant than the first time.

His muscles were still sore from yesterday’s rigorous training, but he worked through it, powering on until all he felt was the burn of exertion.

After warming up they began properly training, and Fenris showed Garrett how to throw punches, how to use an opponent’s size against them, and how to land kicks without being thrown off balance. He also tried to teach Garrett how to move gracefully and quickly to dodge blows, but Garrett struggled extraordinarily with that particular aspect, partly due to his size.

After the fifth time Fenris managed to land the same punch at the same angle without Garrett successfully avoiding it, Fenris sighed, exasperated.

“You are as graceful as a bronto on ice skates,” he remarked, and Garrett had to agree. “But we’ll make do. You can make up for it in strength, as those Par Vollenians do.”

“I was never the fighter in our family, to be quite honest.”

A smile tugged at the corners of Fenris’s mouth as he responded. “That is obvious.”

Garrett smiled at the humorous jab, and got back into a defensive position. “How about blocking? Could I be any good at that?” he asked, and Fenris nodded.

Garrett spent the next hour taking blows to his arms, for the most part succeeding in keeping any from landing in more delicate areas. Fenris landed a fair amount of hits where they were intended, however, and by the time Fenris was satisfied, Garrett was sore all over.

The sun was high in the sky at this point, and Garrett was sweating like a pig.

Fenris gave him a considering look. “Let’s take a break,” he said after a moment, and Garrett almost sighed in relief. They ventured down the ladder again to the small room Fenris called home, grabbed a pitcher of water and two cups, and settled down on the thin mattress in the corner.

Garrett laid down on his back, sprawling out and stretching his muscles. Now that they were no longer in movement, they felt like jelly. After he had gotten all the tenseness out of them he flopped over onto his side and turned a considering eye onto Fenris.

“So, where did you learn to fight?” he asked after a few moments.

Fenris looked straight ahead as he answered. “I was Danarius’s bodyguard. As such I needed to know how to fight. I was taught a number of forms, both armed and not.”

It hadn’t been the answer Garrett had expected, but he supposed it should have been. Neither of them said anything for a few minutes.

Garrett’s voice was halting when he did speak again, trying to be tactful, measuring his words carefully.

“This is dangerous,” he said slowly, “and things could go very wrong. You have the most to lose of us, and you don’t have anyone in this mess you need to protect.” Garrett huffed air out his nose in humor and added, “not that I can protect Marian, more likely she’ll be the one protecting me.” He looked carefully up at Fenris, meeting his eyes but unable to read the other man’s expression, then continued, hoping he wasn’t screwing up too badly.

“So why haven’t you run? Just packed up and gotten out of here?”

Fenris was silent, looking like he was considering this and weighing his words, and Garrett could feel himself growing more frustrated. If Fenris stayed and something happened… Garrett had been the one to (inadvertently) drag Fenris into this mess. If Fenris were hurt or found because of him…

He was pulled out of his thoughts by Fenris’s voice.

“There comes a time when you must stop running, when you turn and face the tiger.” There was a pause. Then, “I do not wish to spend the rest of my life running. I want… I want a life. I want to know what it is like to be truly free.”

Fenris’s gaze was steady, unwavering. Then a wry smile appeared on his face. “Besides,” he said, “who said I don’t have anyone I need to protect? You can barely block a blow, leaving you at this point would be akin to leaving a kitten to fend for itself against great bears.”

Garrett laughed, a smile taking up half his face. Fenris simply grinned at him.

Just as Garrett regained his composure, his phone rang. He scrambled to get it, and just as he hit the _accept call_ button Fenris got up and stretched, his shirt riding up and revealing a sliver of skin between his shirt and pants.

Garrett didn’t catch the first part of whatever whoever was on the phone was saying. He took the phone from his ear, quickly checked the caller ID, and returned it to his ear.

“Sorry, Marian, come again?”

 _“We’re at Sundermount, just had a talk with the Keeper. You asked me to keep you updated, so here I am. Updating you.”_ Despite her harsh words, the tone was soft, and Garrett smiled. She deserved whatever had made her sound like that.

He turned to Fenris and covered the receiver. “It’s Marian with an update,” he explained, then returned the phone to his ear. “Thanks for calling. What did you find out?”

Marian’s voice was more humorous this time, and he could just imagine the expression on her face. _“You’re with someone again! Garrett? Who are you with?”_

He could hear excited chattering start in the background on her end and figured Isabela had heard her.

“It’s not important, just tell me what you know, please?”

After a few moments of excited chattering through a muffled receiver (Marian must have placed her hand over it), Marian returned. _“Okay so Merrill figures barista dude came back. I figure it’s one of your friends who I never bothered to get to know. Isabela is on the fence. So? Remember, I’ve got a truth on credit!”_

“I’ll tell you later okay, I promise. But honestly, Marian,” he could feel annoyance creep into his voice at this point, “Figure out your own romantic problems before you nag on me for mine, okay?”

Marian feigned innocence. _“I have no idea what you mean,”_ she said, and Garrett huffed a sigh of exasperation. He supposed it didn’t matter right now, she was going to tell Isabela how she felt sooner or later. He had always been able to see right through her emotional blockades, even when she couldn’t. Or wouldn’t.

He heaved a sigh, turning back to the original question. “Please, Marian, just tell me what you’ve got.”

 _“All right, all right, killjoy. So they already sold it to some ‘Vint crime lord? Like, a super powerful one. As in “controls a fucktonne of criminal enterprises”. This is gonna be a good fight.”_ He could hear the grin in her voice. _“But anyway, they delivered it to a cave system a few miles north of here, so we’re gonna…”_ Marian continued talking, but Garrett had stopped listening. His chest felt tight.

“Marian,” he interrupted, “this is really important. What’s the guy’s name?”

The line was silent for a few moments. Then Marian spoke again. _“I don’t know, she didn’t say. I can figure it out when we get up there? We’ll only be facing his men, so we can learn his name then.”_ He could practically hear her smirk n her next words. _“Unless we slit their throats before they have a chance to use them. Cause if so, you’ll be out of luck.”_ She became more serious again. _“I’ll try to get his name, Gare, just sit tight. I’ll call you later today, okay?”_

He nodded, then remembered she couldn’t see him. “Yeah,” he said flatly, and hung up.

Fenris was looking at him inquisitively, and Garrett briefly debated the merits of telling him what that had been about. He made up his mind quickly.

“It was sold to a ‘Vint crime lord. A powerful one. She said he controls a _lot_ of criminal enterprises in the free marches.”

Something flashed in Fenris’s eyes before a fierce and determined look settled on his face. Garrett spoke again, needing to reassure both Fenris and himself.

“It might not be him though. Marian is gonna find out, and she’ll have a name for us tonight.” He offered a weak smile.

Fenris nodded curtly, then turned and headed towards the ladder.

“If it is him, we need to be ready. Let’s go, this break has been long enough.”

Garrett silently agreed, then headed after Fenris. He knew he had a long day ahead of him, but he didn’t mind. Tonight, they would have answers, and if things were the way they thought, tomorrow Danarius would be dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! Next chapter will be out Wednesday, so check back then!


	17. Marian

Marian tucked her phone away and looked at the two women next to her. Garrett was right, as usual. She should fix her own romantic problems. She could almost feel the imagined barrier between her consciousness and her emotions strain under the thought, and was incredibly unwilling to face whatever lay behind it. _Ugh,_ she thought and made a face.

Isabela raised an eyebrow at her. “What’s going on?”

She folded her arms atop the steering wheel and buried her head beneath them, willfully not looking at the two women standing outside the vehicle. “Garrett just told me to sort through my own romantic problems and not go digging through his.”

Isabela laughed. “As if you’re gonna do that willingly, you and your big ball of repressed feelings.” Her tone was light and humorous, but the comment still stung a bit.

Marian closed her eyes and sighed, leaning back into the seat. “Fuck off,” she muttered, and Isabela just laughed.

“No, but seriously Hawke, you’re gonna have to talk about this eventually. Things get complicated when you kiss people, and you need to talk to her.” Marian knew which kiss Isabela was referring to, but Marian didn’t want to talk about it. _Really_ didn’t want to. She didn’t want to talk about any of this.

Isabela was quiet for a moment, and expectant sort of quiet, and when she didn’t get an answer she spoke again. “Okay, then, I’ll just be going, and you two can figure this out.”

That felt… wrong. “Wait,” Marian said, lifting her head, straightening in her seat and frowning. She looked out the open door at Isabela. “Stay. You should stay for this.”

Isabela looked halfway between pleased and uncomfortable, and Marian couldn’t blame her for the latter. She sighed, then jumped out of the car and stood between Merrill and Isabela. She looked around, then gestured to three thick but short logs arranged in a small triangle around a dead campfire. They walked over to it and sat down, each of them claiming one log, but still seated barely a few feet apart.

Marian was quiet for a moment, looking down, grumbled silently, then looked up and right at Merrill.

“Okay so, I’m shit at feeling stuff, right? And I’m an asshole. Before we get into shitty fucking feeling stuff, you gotta get one thing, okay? You liking me… like… romantically or whatever, isn’t going to make me a non-asshole, okay? That’s just who I am. Yeah?”

Merrill nodded, and Marian sighed, not really knowing where to start. The silence was getting long, and Marian was wracking her brain for a good way to put it when she saw Isabela looking annoyed, and then opening her mouth. _Shit._

Knowing it would sound a thousand times worse if it came from someone other than her, Marian just blurted it out. “I kissed Isabela.”

Merrill’s expression didn’t change much, but a small, slightly confused smile crept onto her face. “Okay,” she said. “So, does this mean you want to stop kissing me, or?”

Marian just looked at her, mouth ajar. She quickly shut it, and then said in a slightly strained voice, “you mean you’re not… I don’t know, hurt? Angry? I just admitted to… I don’t know, practically cheating on you? Aren’t you mad at me? What the fuck, Merrill?”

Merrill just shrugged. “You love her; I can see it. I like you, a lot, and I enjoyed kissing you, but I wouldn’t ask you to give that up. I can see that what you two have is important and real, no matter what you two are telling yourselves.”

Marian could feel the dam cracking and was desperately trying to hold it in place while feeling her cheeks go hot. A glance over at Isabela, and she was faced with unexpected eye contact. Isabela was watching her, a careful poker face in place. Marian looked back at Merrill.

“I- it’s just lust,” she said, but even she could hear the uncertainty in her own voice. Merrill smiled gently.

Isabela cut in. “Okay, so as we all know, Hawke is completely incapable of admitting to feeling any emotion other than anger, hate, malice, vengeance, or bloodthirst. She is completely useless at these kinds of talks, and so I’m just gonna get this shit moving so we don’t sit here until we’re old and withered, waiting for Hawke to talk about _feelings._ ” The last word was said in a mock-scary tone, and Marian snorted.

“Fuck off,” Marian said quietly, not really meaning it, and Isabela just sent her a glare, conveying her message of “shut up” remarkably well.

“So. It’s actually fucking obvious that Hawke has started feeling shit. You’ve really lost your touch.” Isabela smiled mockingly at Marian, and Marian stuck out her tongue in return.

“So correct me if I’m wrong, although, spoiler alert, I’m not, here’s what you’re feeling.” She was looking more serious now, and Marian could feel a constriction in her chest, terrified of what was coming next, but still knowing that it would be… freeing, in some way.

“You have feelings for Merrill. She’s really cute, so who wouldn’t develop feelings for her.” Something clicked, and Marian was about to interrupt to share her findings with the group when Isabela sent her a death glare and shut her up.

“Problem is, your feelings for me have gone past carnal lust.” Marian’s objection to this froze in her throat, and Isabela smiled and nodded, satisfied with herself. “So you try to sabotage your one stable romantic relationship because you’re afraid that things will change.” Her tone softened. “But babe, things have to change for them to get better. You know this.”

Marian was feeling thoroughly uncomfortable now. She didn’t want to think about these things that were undeniably true, she didn’t want to talk about what to do with these useless emotions, she didn’t want to do anything with this.

So instead of talking about her own emotions, she deflected. “Well,” she said with a grin, “it’s not like I’m the only one here with feelings for Merrill.”

Isabela looked like she was considering for a moment, then cracked a self-deprecating smile. “Well, who would have thought that the woman who had decided never to fall in love again would actually end up falling for two women at the same time?”

Marian chuckled, and Merrill just looked at them sympathetically.

They sat in silence for a few moments, seeming like they were all contemplating the new information. _Well, not new exactly_ , Marian thought, after all, everyone had known this for quite a while now. This wasn’t new information so much as it was newly admitted and accepted information, which they now had to deal with.

“So,” Isabela finally said, turning to Merrill. “What are your feelings? You like Hawke, right? You two fit together. Is that gonna happen, or?”

Merrill met Isabela’s gaze, looking slightly confused. “I like you too, though,” she said, and Isabela smiled gently.

“But do you want to be with Hawke? Are you going to get with her?”

“Well… yes, if she wants that too. But… I like you too.”

“That doesn’t matter though, does it. You’ll be with Hawke.”

Merrill looked even more confused. “And?”

Isabela sighed in exasperation. “And so nothing’s gonna happen with us. You’ll be with Hawke. The relationship’s full. There’s no room for me.”

“Why not?” Merrill asked, taking everyone by surprise. At the other women’s confused looks, Merrill elaborated. “I like Hawke, and she likes me. But you like me too, and I like you back. On top of that, you two like each other.”

Isabela still looked confused, and Marian could feel the confusion written across her own face as well.

“Is this a Dalish thing?” Marian asked, and Merrill’s face lit up in understanding.

“Well, it's not super common but... Wait, you don't do this at all outside the clans?” she asked, and Marian and Isabela both shook their heads.

“Well,” Marian amended, “I’ve seen some internet articles about it? But I never really thought much about it. I don’t know, it always seemed like something a few other people did. I never thought of it as something I would ever do.”

“Do you want to try it, though?” Merrill asked, suddenly looking more nervous than she had previously, blushing and looking down.

Isabela was the first to respond, with a lewd smile and waggling eyebrows. “Well, you know what they say,” she smirked. “Two girlfriends are better than one.”

Their eyes turned to Marian, who was looking at the ground, and after a moment of expectant silence she rolled her eyes and sighed. “Sure, if it will make you shut up about fucking _feelings_.” She scowled to keep any other emotions from appearing on her face and looked up to see Merrill smiling sympathetically at her. Marian knew how obvious her deflection truly was in that moment. She ignored the other two’s looks and stood.

“Well, _girlfriends,_ ” she said, pressure on the last word, “are we going, or what? I’m about ready to beat some assholes up.”

Isabela chuckled and Merrill smiled, and they all walked over to the truck, piled in, and headed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter turned really long so I decided to split it into two parts. That means that the next update will also be a Marian chapter, and this time they'll be kicking ass. Since I split the chapter part two will be posted on Friday, so you don't have to wait too long for the rest of it, but after that I'll be going back to the old update pattern, Sundays and Wednesdays.  
> I hope you liked this, and thank you for reading!


	18. Marian

It took them under twenty minutes to reach the cave system the Keeper had told them about, and in that time Merrill had explained some things about the kind of relationship they were entering into. With the help of Merrill’s knowledge and the always-welcome expertise of google they had agreed that “poly triad” was the best label to put on it.

Marian would never admit it, but she kind of liked having words for things. She had loved finding words for herself earlier, words like _rebel_ and _lesbian_ and _fighter_ and _sister_ and _nonbeliever_ and _asshole_. Defining herself in the simplest of terms, having ways to communicate these parts of herself to others without wasting too much breath. Claiming for herself words others would use to hurt her.

She was glad to have a word for this as well.

As they approached the entrance to the cave system, they could hear activity. Voices and sounds of things being moved could be heard, and Marian stopped the car and killed the engine before they could be discovered.

“So, anyone got a plan?” Marian asked after a few moments of silence.

Isabela made a “wait here” gesture and exited the car, making no noise as she climbed up the small, green hilltop obscuring the cave system from view. She returned a minute later and jumped back in the car.

After a moment she turned to the other two.

“Okay, so it looks like we got here just in time, they’re packing up and preparing to move out. I counted four people, and none of them are _heavily_ armed, but one had knives in plain view. The other three looked unarmed.”

Marian nodded at her, and Merrill had a look of concentration on her face.

“So,” Isabela said. “Time to scrape together some semblance of a plan?”

* * *

In the end, they had all contributed ideas, and the plan was more a patchwork blanket than a seamless masterwork. Unfortunately, time had limited them, and so Marian prayed to every god she didn’t believe in that this would work.

And so Marian had ended up holding Isabela’s hand and walking straight into the enemy camp, knife tucked in a sheath on her calf hidden by Merrill’s knee socks. The wardrobe change had been an annoying necessity as her shorts and tank top ensemble would do nothing to cover any other knife placements, and Marian wondered absentmindedly where Isabela had hidden her own knives. Her skimpy outfit didn’t give many options, and Marian decided quickly that she didn’t really want to consider it.

She was quietly cursing Isabela’s name under her breath, but still making heart eyes at her girlfriend and pretending not to see where they were headed, when a voice rang out in front of them.

“Hey!” Marian turned to face forward again to look at the woman who had addressed them.

She was taller than Marian ( _easier to duck under incoming blows_ , Marian thought absentmindedly), and looked strong, with clearly defined muscles shown off by her tank top ( _no excessive material to grab onto_ ). Her hair was collected in a ponytail ( _good, leverage_ ) and she was glaring menacingly at them. Isabela intervened before Marian could say something threatening and blow their cover before they were ready for it to be blown.

“I’m sorry,” she said in her most innocent voice, “my girlfriend and I were just taking a walk here and… I’m sorry are we interrupting something?” Isabela shifted her eyes to the vans being packed, and Marian had to admire her acting skills. “Oh, you’re packing up? This is such a nice camping spot, you know, we come here all the time. Do you need some help? We’d be happy to help.”

Instead of waiting for an answer, Isabela and Marian walked quickly towards the vans, placing themselves in the middle of the people walking there. A man’s voice from behind them made Marian stop in her tracks.

“Your girlfriend? You’re lesbians?”

The words weren’t what bothered Marian, it was the voice the man used, leering and predatory, as though this was some show he would like to enjoy, as though this somehow belonged to him. As though this love between the two women was somehow a thing only there for his sake, as though it was only acceptable if it was for his consumption. She knew this kind of man, the kind that would turn from predatory to enraged and disgusted when she made it clear that this was not for his dirty hands to spoil.

She would make that clear. And that clarification would not be pleasant for him.

Marian had experienced his kind plenty of times when she was younger, before she had established herself as someone not to mess with, and it had always ended less than pleasantly for the person expressing this sentiment.

She swiveled, held back only by Isabela’s hand on her arm, and plastered on her face the most obviously fake smile she could manage.

“I am, she’s not. A woman who likes women doesn’t always have to be a lesbian, you know. Learn your fucking terminology.”

The man just leered in response. She longed to grab that long blonde hair of his and smash his face into the ground, and made a mental note to save this guy for last. The fact that no one spoke over him suggested him to be the highest ranking person here, and so he would have the most useful information anyhow. And how she would enjoy extracting it.

“But you’re fucking each other, right? I mean, I’m fine with you two being lesbians, so long as you don’t steal my girlfriend or nothing.” He laughed, and the two men who were now standing at his side joined in.

Marian was done listening. “Sorry, Bela,” she murmured, “I know we agreed to wait until the “right moment” or whatever, but fuck it.”

“Don’t kill anyone,” Isabela warned under her breath, and then she was out of earshot.

Marian walked quickly and purposefully towards the asshole, not yet giving any sign that she was armed. The two men who had laughed with him earlier quickly stepped between her and her target, and out of the corner of her eye she could see Isabela heading for the woman who had greeted them.

The two men weren’t stopping to coordinate, simply heading straight for her, and therefore slightly towards each other. The blonde asshole was hanging back, looking unarmed and slightly nervous, likely not hired for his fighting skills. Marian focused on taking out his thugs so she could get a clear shot at him afterwards.

She acted before a plan had fully formed in her mind, driven by years of experience and pure instinct.

As the men closed in she twisted 180 degrees to her right, taking her out of one man’s line of sight and placing her back to the other. Then, in one swift movement, she drove her elbow into the closest man’s solar plexus, feeling his hair brush her shoulder as he doubled over behind her.

Another swivel completed her 360 degree turn, and she was facing the man again. An elbow to his back, more specifically, his kidneys ( _that’s gotta hurt like a bitch_ , she thought to herself, satisfied), put him on the ground, writhing in pain. To incapacitate him for the time being, Marian delivered a kick to his head, knocking him out cold.

Satisfied with her work, she turned to see that the man she had dodged had regained his bearings in the short moment it had taken her to incapacitate his partner. He was again headed for her, and a vicious grin spread across Marian’s face as she began to feel the effects of the adrenaline coursing through her.

In her initial, automatic evaluation of her opponents, Marian had noted that this man’s brawn far outweighed his brain. He wasn’t tall, but he was broad and muscled, and Marian knew that she couldn’t beat him using her strength alone. Fortunately, he had proved to be anything but clever. His initial plan of attack and the time it had taken him to adjust to her disappearance had proven that, and Marian fully intended to use this to her advantage.

He was almost running toward her, and Marian stood still, just waiting until he was close enough, and when he finally was, she lithely stepped aside. He crashed into the bush behind her, and a laugh escaped her mouth as she lunged after him, pinning him to the ground and twisting an arm savagely behind his head until she heard the noise signaling his arm popping out of his shoulder socket.

Satisfied that he wouldn’t be moving anytime soon, she turned her focus back on the last two, the woman who had first greeted them, and the blonde man. Isabela was dealing quite well with her impressive adversary, both women holding knives, two in each hand. Marian watched with a smile as Isabela managed to strike hard with the hilt of one of her knives at the woman’s wrist, making her hand pop open and release the knife held in it. After that it was simple to go around her disarmed side, end up behind her and press the knife to her throat in a silent threat. Isabela had the woman on her knees in a heartbeat, and proceeded to knock her out with a knife hilt to the head.

This display had only taken a moment, and after it was over Marian immediately turned back to the blond man. “Mine,” she hissed at Isabela in warning, and her girlfriend backed off, showing off a smile that said she knew exactly what Marian was planning and approved wholeheartedly.

The blond looked nervous when he saw Marian headed for him, and put his hands behind his back, pulled something out of his pants, and returned them to his front, pointing a gun at Marian, desperate expression on his face.

Marian stopped and simply cocked her head to one side, amused smile plastered on her face. “Now, now, you think a gun is going to scare me? I’ve been shot before, and you know what?” she stage-whispered the last part at him, humor in her voice, “it’s not nearly as bad as what I’ll do to you.” She grinned at him, and the remaining color drained from his cheeks.

Looking even more desperate, in jerky movements, he shifted the gun so it was aiming directly at Isabela.

Marian’s veins flooded with ice, and the ball in her chest threatened to unravel right then and there. She pushed it down and forced a chuckle out of her throat.

“You must really be desperate if you’re threatening someone who’s not a threat to you.” She took a step towards him, but halted when he pulled the safety off the gun, then forced a grin onto her face. “I’m warning you, if you don’t lower that gun, I’ll make the next, and last, hour of your life a living hell.”

“Yeah? Well-” he didn’t have the opportunity to finish his sentence, because at that moment a loud _thwang_ could be heard, and a moment later an arrow was sticking out from his right shoulder. His arm spasmed and the gun fell from his hand. Marian stepped forward the few feet that separated her and the gun, kicked it away, then grabbed hold of the man’s neck and slammed his face to the ground. After some maneuvering he ended up lying on his stomach on the gravel with Marian atop him, one knee on his back and the other between his legs in a silent threat.

“You couldn’t have done that a little earlier?” she shouted towards the small hilltop behind her, and Merrill’s head appeared between the bushes. She extracted herself from her hiding place and walked toward them bow in hand, looking almost like some ancient forest-y goddess (although Marian would never admit to thinking this).

“Sorry,” she said, “I couldn’t find the right position, and then the wind was blowing wrong, oh and then you _completely abandoned the plan_.” There was only good-natured humor in her voice, and Marian smiled sheepishly up at her.

“Sorry, babe, this guy just pissed me the fuck off.” She knocked the man’s head to the ground one more time to make a point, noting the blood dripping from his nose.

“Wait, you’re with her too? Do you have threesomes? Can I-” he was interrupted by sudden and violent altercation between Marian’s knee and his groin, and Marian took some pleasure in the sound of breath rushing from his lungs in a quiet _oof_.

She stepped off him, stood behind him and yanked him to his knees, gathered his long blond hair gathered in one hand and pulled her knife from the sheath on her calf.

“Now, you do not know this because I haven’t placed it against your throat yet, but I have a knife. And you will not like what I do with it unless you answer my questions. Okay?”

The man tried to nod, panicked, and almost yanked his own hair out in the process. Marian tightened her hold on the blond strands, and the man muttered a small “yes”.

“Who are you? Who do you work for? And where is the book the keeper traded you?”

The man seemed to get some of his bravado back when he realized that they needed him for something. A smug smile appeared on his face.

“You may address me as the Raven,” he said, and Marian snorted. She could hear Merrill chuckling and it warmed her heart, but she didn’t look up from the knife dancing between the fingers of her right hand.

Quick as lightning, the knife was no longer in her hand but rather pressed against his throat. The man gulped visibly, and a small, red line appeared on his throat where it had protruded at the action, making him visibly regret it.

His words came faster and the smugness had disappeared. “I… the book has been collected already by the boss, he got it last night, he’s in Hightown, there’s a mansion there, I- please don’t kill me.”

Marian bit out the words, making herself sound as threatening as she could. “Give me his name and the address. Now.”

“He’s at the Ahriman estate, and his name- his name is Danarius.”

Marian nodded to herself, satisfied with the information, and sent a questioning glance at her companions. They both shook their heads, signaling that they had nothing they wanted to ask the man.

“Well, okay then,” Marian said, “we’ve got all we came for. Thank you for your cooperation.”

“So- so you’ll let me go?” the man asked, and Marian chuckled a bit.

“Fuck no. Burn in hell, you homophobic asshole.”

She took pleasure in the man’s reaction to thinking he was going to die, since she couldn’t take the pleasure she would have gotten from his actual death. She knew she couldn’t actually kill him, not without drawing too much attention to herself and showing her girlfriends a side of herself she would rather they never saw, and so instead of bringing the knife across his throat, she brought it across his collar bone, slicing deep, a token of her affection for him to keep on him forever, and then brought the hilt of the knife hard against his temple, knocking him out cold.

She straightened, stretching to make her back feel better after having leaned over this waste of a human being for so long, and looked at her girlfriends.

Isabela was sat on a rock, cleaning her knives with a handkerchief, but looked up when she noticed Marian at her full height again. “you done?” she asked, and Marian nodded.

“Do you know where the book is now?” Merrill asked, and Marian nodded to that too. Merrill smiled sweetly at both her and Isabela. “We work well together, you know.”

Marian smiled at her, feeling the words pulling at what felt like a loose string in the ball of emotion she kept buried. She let them, not pushing them away or forcing them out, and walked over to Merrill.

She smiled at the shorter woman, kissed her on the forehead, and then walked towards the truck. “Nice shooting, by the way,” she called over her shoulder, and hoped Merrill understood the sentiment underlying the words.

The two women piled into the truck after her, and as they hit the road, Marian dialed Garrett’s number. She had new information for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so some shit is happening so the next update will be Wednesday, which is a bit later than planned so sorry about that, but a whole-assed chapter on Wednesday is better than a half-assed chapter on Sunday, right?  
> Anyway, I hope you liked the chapter (I know I loved writing it, they're finally kicking ass!) and thank you guys for the kudos and comments, they're so appreciated! Thank you for reading!


	19. Garrett

Garrett was sweating like a pig and was sore all over, dying for a shower and a break, but needing to get all this nervous energy out. His phone was tucked in the waistband of his sweats so he would feel it vibrate against his skin when Marian called him. He hoped she would hurry up.

As if on cue, he felt a buzz against his hip. He grabbed the phone and didn’t even wait to catch his breath before pressing the _accept call_ button and pressing the phone to his ear.

Marian began talking at once, giving Garrett a chance to catch his breath before having to say anything.

 _“His name’s Danarius,”_ Marian said, and Garrett’s heart sank.

He had known it had been him, deep inside, but he had still held onto that tiny sliver of hope that maybe they were wrong, maybe it wasn’t him, maybe Fenris would still be safe.

That sliver of hope was useless now.

He turned to Fenris, who was standing in front of him, his dark skin looking almost pale, blood drained from his face. His expression was on the other end of the spectrum, fierce and defiant, looking ready to fight. Garrett guessed he could hear the voice on the other end of the line from where he was standing, and stepped closer so Fenris could hear even more clearly. He stopped next to Fenris, standing shoulder to shoulder with the other man so the phone was between their heads, giving them equal opportunity to hear Marian.

Garrett turned his focus back to the conversation at hand.

“Do you know where he is?” Garrett asked, already certain what he and Fenris would do once they had this information.

 _“Yeah, he’s in Hightown. We’re headed back now to get the book.”_ Garrett turned to Fenris, and a series of looks were exchanged between them. After a moment he turned his focus back to Marian.

“We’re coming with. Meet us at the docks, and we’ll head there together. Just take a right at the entrance and drive to the end, that’s where we are.”

_“All right. We’re pretty far out, so we won’t be back until around noon tomorrow. You good until then?”_

Garrett grunted an affirmative and disconnected the call before Marian had a chance to say anything else. He then turned to Fenris.

“Do you really want to do this?” he asked the other man, noting the tenseness that had spread through Fenris’s body and the determination firm on his face. A curt nod was all the answer he received before Fenris dropped back into a defensive position, gesturing for Garrett to go on the offense.

Garrett wanted to be as prepared as possible for the upcoming reunion between Fenris and his past, he wanted to be of help when Fenris fought for his future, and so he did as he was told and began again.

* * *

At noon the next day Garrett heard a car approach their end of the docks, then stop, engine cutting out. Doors slammed and in the same moment, his cell phone rang.

Garrett hastily accepted the call then pushed the phone to his ear with one hand as he grabbed his coat with the other, Fenris following suit.

“We’re on our way down,” he said and disconnected, then turned to Fenris.

“You ready?” he asked, and Fenris nodded.

“I- yes.” He smiled weakly, then gestured to the door. “Shall we go?” he asked, and they exited together.

Marian was waiting for them outside, leaning against the driver’s side of the truck. When she saw them, she turned and climbed into the cab, gesturing vaguely with a hand towards the truck bed, most likely intending for them to climb in.

Garrett hesitated, hoping she wasn’t serious. “Marian?” he asked, disapproval in his voice. She turned toward him, one eyebrow raised. After a moment of no one moving, Garrett sighed, defeated. “Regaled to the back of my own truck,” he huffed, and climbed into the truck bed. Fenris followed, and Garrett reached a hand towards the other man. After a moment of consideration, Fenris grabbed it, a slight blush coloring his dark cheeks, and used it to hoist himself up into the truck bed alongside Garrett.

Garrett turned towards the cab and stuck his head through the space where the  long gone rear window used to be. He positioned himself between Marian and Merrill, turning from one to the other, and grinned, then dragged Fenris after him so the other man’s head was peaking in between Merrill and Isabela. Marian didn’t turn on the engine, instead turning toward Garrett, but Garrett’s attention had already shifted to the woman next to his sister.

After a moment he stretched his hand out and ruffled her short black hair. “You must be Merrill,” he said, grinning wide despite the situation they were heading into. “We haven’t officially met. I’m guessing you’re the one who has convinced my sister that romantic relationships are an actual thing?” Marian slapped him upside the head and Garrett plastered on a look of mock hurt, hand dramatically at his heart. He heard a snort of laughter from the man next to him, and the look dissolved into a smile.

“Wait,” Isabela interrupted, turning to face Fenris, “is this barista dude?” She turned he attention towards Garrett. “Gare, is that “love ‘em and leave ‘em” barista dude?”

Garrett turned red, and could feel Fenris shifting next to him. He consciously avoided looking at the other man and instead sent Isabela a scathing look. After a moment she held her hands up in surrender, and Garrett turned back to Merrill, desperate to change the topic back to his original query.

“So?” he asked her, and Merrill blushed. Isabela cut in to answer.

“Hawke is in love!” she sang in a borderline mocking tone but with a soft smile on her face. Marian reached behind Merrill’s back to smack Isabela upside the head, and Isabela stuck her tongue out at her.

Garrett grinned, pleased by this development, and turned his head toward Isabela. “Sorry about all that meaningless sex you’ll be missing from now on, then, since my sister is in an actual relationship.”

He moved quickly out of the way and narrowly avoided another slap to the back of the head. This action sent him closer to Fenris, and Garrett couldn’t really say he minded all that much. Isabela grinned at him, and he turned his attention back to her.

“Yeah, it’s tragic that my sex with Hawke will actually be meaningful from now on, since we’re actually officially a thing.” She sighed wistfully. “I’ll always remember the meaningless and deeply satisfying fucking we did, Hawke. Saying goodbye to that will be hard.” She grinned, and Marian chuckled, a small and fierce grin on her face.

Garrett was confused, and was quick to voice it. “I thought… wait, aren’t you with Merrill?” He turned to the man next to him. “Fenris, she said she was with Merrill, right? I wasn’t hallucinating that?”

Fenris looked interested, and a small smile was tugging at his lips. Garrett’s heart swelled unexpectedly, and all he really wanted to do was kiss the raised corners of the man’s mouth, but lines had been set and Garrett did not want to cross them. Instead, he turned to the girls again, who all had amused smiles on their faces.

Merrill was the only one who seemed to take pity on Garrett, and so she was the one who explained to him what was going on.

“We’re together, all three of us.” Garrett could feel the confusion still written clearly on his face, and Merrill seemed to pick up on it, as she began to elaborate.

“We all have feelings for each other, and there’s no reason at all why there can’t be more than two people in a relationship, right?” Merrill was smiling so sweetly that Garrett didn’t have it in him to argue with her. But, he figured, whatever made them happy was fine by him. He shrugged noncommittally and began leaning back so his upper body was no longer in the cab of the truck.

Before he got very far, a hand grabbed his arm. When he turned back to look, he saw Marian, holding on to him but looking out her window, sounding almost disinterested when she opened her mouth.

“Spill,” was all she said, and Garrett understood that she meant all of it. He looked back at the man behind him, and after receiving a curt nod he began telling the women about the events that had transpired in their absence. About the men that had come for him, about the fight, about Fenris saving him, about Danarius, and about his fighting lessons.

After he was finished, Marian gestured to Isabela, who began telling him and Fenris about their adventures so far, prime among them that Marian had beaten up a homophobic assface. Marian was quick to add that Merrill had shot him in the shoulder with an arrow, and Garrett didn’t miss the soft look she sent the smaller woman next to her. He smiled a bit at that, glad his sister had a reason to be soft after having held onto her hardness for so long.

After they were through their story, from their ride up to Sundermount, to their talk with the keeper, the relationship talk outside the camp, the fight at the caves, and their ride down here again, Garrett was eager to turn his attention back to the task at hand. Marian seemed to be of the same mind, because she turned the key in the ignition and got the car rolling towards Hightown.

Isabela put on some summery pop music and Garrett turned back and crawled toward the back of the truck bed, dragging Fenris with him, then leaned against the short railing there. Fenris situated himself right next to him, and he could feel the other man’s heat despite the inch between them.

Isabela turned the volume up and began singing along, and Garrett was confident that no matter how loudly he and Fenris talked from where they sat, they would not be overheard.

He turned to the man beside him and smiled.

“So, you’ve met my sister now,” he said, smiling apologetically. Fenris smiled back, and Garrett’s heart jumped again.

“Indeed I have. Her girlfriends appear to call her Hawke as well. That’ll make for some interesting situations later, I’ll wager.” Garrett grinned in agreement, then his face fell into a frown.

After a moment, he spoke again. “What do you think will happen? When we get there?”

Fenris’s smile disappeared, and he grew more serious. “He will not let any possession of his go without a fight, neither the tome nor me.” Hearing Fenris refer to himself as a possession so casually made Garrett’s heart ache for the man, but the understood that he was simply relaying Danarius’s intentions, not the facts of the case. Fenris was no possession, not any longer, and Garrett was determined it stay that way.

Garrett turned his focus back on the conversation and the task ahead, and listened as Fenris continued. “It will be a hard fight; he will surely have a lot of hired muscle. We will need to be careful, the numbers will not be in our advantage.”

Garrett nodded, and they fell silent, sound filling the air around them but never quite seeming to reach them where they were, trapped in their own thoughts.

 Garrett looked up at the sun, high in the sky, and set his resolve. One of two things would be fact by the time night fell, he knew. Either Fenris would be a free man, or Garrett himself would be dead.

He let the truck carry him closer and closer to his endgame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Next one will be out on Sunday, hopefully. Thank you for reading!


	20. Marian

Marian parked a block away from the mansion, not wanting to alert their target of their presence. They all clambered out of the truck and began walking towards the house, prepped for a fight.

Merrill had her bow in hand, and Marian was sure Isabela had her knives hidden somewhere clever. Marian still had her knife hidden under Merrill’s knee socks, the soft leather sheath it was placed in a reassuring weight on her calf. The men seemed to be unarmed, and Marian sent Garrett’s white-haired friend a questioning look. His expression was hard to read, but Marian was sure she saw some fear through his determined and angry exterior.

In response to her silent question, Fenris said, “I don’t need weapons, and your brother would be more likely to cut himself than the opponent.”

Marian chuckled a bit at that, and nodded at him, accepting his preference without question. She had once worked with a man who preferred unarmed combat, and when she asked him why, why he wouldn’t take use of the advantage knives or a gun offered, he had responded that he would rather let his opponent get sloppy from the appearance of an advantage and then take them down. She had once seen that man rip another man’s throat out with his teeth.

Fenris reminded her of him.

She gestured to her companions to follow her and headed towards the estate.

The mansion loomed before them, dark and twisted, with ironwork railings and heavily curtained windows being the only adornment of the front. Marian approached the door, the others trailing behind, quickly realizing that they were not at all prepared for whatever would meet them on the other side of the great wooden doors.

She turned to the others and saw the same sentiment written clearly on their faces.

“So,” she began, intending to prepare some sort of plan with the help of the others, but cut herself off before she could continue. She held up a single finger in a silent order for everyone to be still, and listened intently.

Someone was moving on the other side of the door. And with their luck, and based on the thickness of the door and the volume that would be needed for the sound of movement to carry outside, it was probably a whole heap of someones.

Marian cursed internally, then gestured for Merrill to back up. As a ranged fighter, Marian wanted her as far away from the enemy as possible. And if that also radically decreased her girlfriend’s risk of getting injured, that was just an added bonus.

She pulled her knife from its sheath and gestured for Isabela to do the same, saw the men get into position out of the corner of her eye, then tested the door.

It was locked, but the movement must have alerted whoever was on the other side of it, because a moment later the door flew open and men started pouring out.

The doorway worked as a bottleneck and so the men could only come through a couple at a time, limiting the amount of enemies the group would have to deal with at once. The first two came at them with knives, one headed straight for Marian, the other for Garrett, and out of the corner of her eye Marian could see Fenris stepping between her brother and the man intent on hurting him.

Marian could feel the fight growing in her body like a physical thing, and she knew the grin that was spreading across her face was anything but pretty. She didn’t care.

The man had reached her, knife drawn and sneer on his face. Marian mockingly copied his sneer, then dropped into a fighter’s stance.

The man lunged, leading with his knife, aiming for Marian’s stomach, and Marian sidestepped, meeting his knife with hers as she went to further derail it. It still grazed her bicep, though Marian barely felt the pain through the rush of adrenaline surging through her. The man’s momentum carried him on a few feet, and before the man had a chance to turn and face her again, Marian brought the hilt of her knife down hard to the back of his head. He dropped like a bag of bricks, and Marian turned to look for a new target.

Her next opponent wasn’t slow to accept her challenge, and a muscled woman approached Marian with a bloodthirsty grin on her face. Marian grinned back, an aggressive and challenging grin, and then they were at each other’s throats.

After what felt like an age, but was in reality only a couple of minutes, the opponents stopped appearing and everything went still, much to Marian’s relief. Her muscles were burning with exertion, and she had felt herself begin to slow down towards the end of this round.

The steps outside the great oak door were littered with unconscious men and women, some with knife wounds, some with arrows sticking out of legs and shoulders, some with only bruises and scrapes, but all alive and none awake.

Marian began inventorying her own injuries, and was overall happy with the result. The slice along the length of her left bicep, though not deep enough to be serious, was deeper than she had initially thought, bad enough that using her arm would make it bleed and open further. Her right side felt bruised, and if she lifted her shirt in a few hours she figured she would probably find a big bruise coloring her entire side. Aside from those two injuries and a few minor cuts and scrapes, she was fine.

Overall, not bad, she figured. Despite her injuries and exhaustion, Marian was quite proud of the group’s handiwork, and turned toward her companions, assessing their conditions.

Isabela was wiping her knives off on her shirt and Merrill was walking around picking arrows out of people. Garrett and Fenris were standing close to one another, Fenris with a determined look on his face and Garrett with puppy-dog eyes focused completely on Fenris.

Figuring they were all mostly fine, Marian turned back towards the now open door and let out a faux-annoyed “come on” before entering the mansion, not waiting to see the others follow.

The halls were dark, and Marian walked with her knives drawn and ready, giving no signs of injury, careful not to show any weakness. She could hear soft footsteps behind her, confirming that the others were following, and listened intently for any sign of enemies in her path.

They didn’t meet anyone until the hallway opened up into a big, open space, a room with high ceilings and chandeliers and tables pushed to the walls. At the other end of the room were stairs, coming up from the right and left sides of the room and meeting in a platform in the middle, which extended backwards into an inside balcony of sorts leading to three doorways, all closed.

On the platform there was a man, looking old but not frail, and behind him Marian counted ten men and women. She heard a sharp intake of breath from behind her when the others joined her in the room, and the rustling of fabric. She didn’t chance a look back, keeping her attention focused on the new adversaries.

As the man began stepping down the stairs on the left side, keeping his eyes focused on something, or someone, she supposed, behind Marian, she grew uncertain of how sound this plan really was. They didn’t even know if the book was even here, she thought, and if it wasn’t, and they killed this man, which Fenris would likely want to do, they were out of luck. She needed to figure this out, quickly.

The man reached the bottom of the stairs, and his men spread out behind him. “Well, well,” he began, “when I heard someone was attacking my people, making demands of them, and now storming my current residence, I thought they were out to take something of mine, not return a lost possession.” He turned to Marian, the obvious leader of the party, and smiled. “I thank you. I will, of course, make it worth your while. Ask of me whatever you wish, and I will see it done.”

Marian hesitated, this opportunity triggering the forming of a plan in her mind. She could hear Garrett shifting behind her, likely unnerved by her hesitation.

After a moment, she spoke, certain of the action she wanted to take. “And if I were to ask for the book you received yesterday, the one you are planning to use as leverage over the Par Vollenians? Would you give it to me in return for your… lost property?”

She could hear scuffling behind her, but did not turn to look, trusting Isabela to take care of her brother’s less than happy reaction to her willingness to negotiate. She just hoped he would be able to forgive her once this was over.

As this was happening behind her, Marian focused on the man before her. His smile faltered for only a moment, and he seemed to weigh his options carefully, stacking wins against losses in the event of his agreement. Having apparently found the results satisfactory, he nodded once.

“Yes, you may have the tome. I have been searching for my little wolf for far too long to turn down the opportunity of reclaiming him now in favor of keeping a book. So hand him over, and I will fetch the book.”

Marian grinned mockingly. “I’m not an idiot, old man. The book first.”

Danarius nodded, and gestured to someone behind him. A woman broke off from the group behind him and disappeared into one of the rooms Marian had noted earlier. She returned moments later with a big book, and Marian looked back at Isabela for confirmation, keeping the wince off her face as the movement pulled at her bruised side. Isabela nodded at her, and she turned back, not meeting Merrill’s eyes, ignoring Garrett’s horrified look, and not even daring to look at Fenris.

When she looked back, Danarius was standing with the book in hand, the woman standing by his side, and the other soldiers closer, in case the group was planning foul play.

Marian stepped forward and took the book, and Danarius sent Fenris a pointed look. “Time to hold up your part of the deal,” he said, and Marian turned back to the group.

“Merrill,” she said, and threw the book to her, this time not being able to keep the wince off her face as the cut on her bicep opened back up. She ignored it. “Back,” she ordered, and the archer retreated to the back of the room with the book.

Marian turned back to Danarius, a wide grin on her face despite the pain and adrenaline she was feeling. “Maker, you’re gullible.” She laughed, mocking and humorless, then held up her knife. “You’re not getting Fenris. My brother is really fuckin’ in love, and I’m not gonna destroy whatever the fuck he has with that dude if I can just fuck some people up instead. So sorry, but you can either retreat or get fucked up by me. Your choice.” Her already wide grin turned all teeth, menacing and feral, and she knew she looked scary based on the look on the old man’s face. “So,” she said, turning to the men and women behind Danarius. “What’s it gonna be?”

Danarius’s face twisted in anger. “Yu will hand him over or face the consequences,” he growled, and Marian laughed.

“No,” she said, and then, “so, who’s first?”

The room erupted into movement, and Marian threw herself into the fight with the fierce glee she felt during every battle.

A big, muscled woman with the physique of a bodybuilder sent Marian a challenging look, and Marian nodded at her, accepting the challenge, though she needn’t have bothered, as the woman was already charging Marian head on. Marian couldn’t help but admire the woman’s muscles in the moment before contact, and then her attention was fully on the fight.

As the woman drew close, Marian had to force her tired feet to move. She barely avoided the brunt of the impact, but the woman still grazed her bruised side, making Marian draw in a sharp breath.

She turned toward the woman again, ignoring the pain, and got down into a defensive stance. The woman turned back toward Marian, and Marian forced a challenging grin.

Her opponent charged at her again, looking like she was aiming to topple Marian off balance this time, arms stretched toward Marian’s shoulders. Marian dropped down to her knees and raised her arms, grabbing the woman by the waist, and using the momentum to throw her over her shoulder.

The woman crashed head first into the stone floor behind her, and Marian looked back, still on her knees. The woman was out cold, and Marian gave a sigh of relief. She didn’t have any energy to spare and wanted this fight over as soon as possible. She could feel the exhaustion like a palpable thing, spreading and poisoning every muscle in her body.

She looked around to assess the situation and find a new opponent as she got to her feet again. Danarius was standing at the top of the stairs again, having likely retreated once the battle started. Garrett and Fenris were both fighting a lean, but muscled man, fists flying and blood spattering. Over in a corner, Merrill was standing with a bow, looking for clean and non-lethal shots, and taking them whenever possible. Fenris and Garrett’s opponent already had an arrow shaft sticking out of his shoulder, so she must have been doing pretty well. Isabela was dancing across the tables at the edge of the room, crossing blades with a small but quick man.

There were multiple bodies on the floor, hopefully all breathing but unconscious, and Marian was happy to observe that everyone was likely on their second opponent.

A second man was approaching Isabela from behind, armed with a single knife and a predatory sneer. Marian forgot all about her exhaustion, her pain, her breathlessness, that one image that sprouted in her mind of Isabela with her back to an armed attacker spurred Marian into movement, and she raced over to the table, seeing the man come ever closer.

A loud _thwang_ sounded right by her ear, and warm pain was at the edge of her left ear. As the arrow hit its mark and lodged itself in the back of the man’s shoulder, making him clutch it and fall to his knees with a shout, Marian touched the shell of her ear. When she pulled back her fingers, they were covered with warm, sticky blood.

“Sorry!” Merrill shouted from behind her, but Marian could only breathe out a sigh of relief as Isabela knocked out her original opponent and then turned to the felled would-be assassin to knock him out too. Everything died down around her as the battle concluded and Garrett and Fenris finished off their last opponent, and the exhaustion crept back into Marian’s limbs. She dropped into a crouch, exhausted, closed her eyes, and breathed.

They were all safe and alive, and Marian repeated that fact like a mantra. They were all safe and alive and Isabela was alive and Merrill had saved her and Marian was so thankful. She could feel the dam cracking and so she stopped thinking, forcing herself to keep her feelings at bay for a little longer, letting the twinge of pain from her ear distract her from everything that was going on inside her.

After a moment spent grounding herself, Marian opened her eyes and turned to look at the others, who were now staring at her. She made sure to keep all emotion from her face when she looked back at them, and turned to Fenris.

“Sorry about earlier. It was nothing personal. You want to finish off that waste of a human being?” She managed to keep her voice from shaking with exhaustion, but it was a close thing.

Fenris wasn’t even looking at her, his focus entirely on the balcony behind her. She took that as a yes and stepped toward the group, dragging her feet, favoring her bruised side, almost faltering halfway there. When she reached them she leaned heavily on Isabela, who looked at her in concern. She gave a dismissive gesture and focused on the scene unfolding before them, even as Merrill positioned herself next to her and took her hand.

Fenris walked towards the man standing, cowering almost, at the top of the stairs. When he reached him, he grabbed Danarius by the neck, lifting him so his toes were barely touching the ground.

“You are no longer my master,” he growled, and then he twisted the man’s neck at an impossible angle and dropped his lifeless body on the ground.

He returned to the group, anger and determination dying from his face, features growing softer, sadder almost. He returned to Garrett’s side, and Marian listened in without meaning to when he spoke to her brother.

“He is dead. I am free. But I am also alone,” he said quietly, voice almost too low for Marian to hear.

Garrett looked fiercely protective but also tentative as he seemed to choose his next words carefully.

“I’m here, Fenris,” he said, and Fenris looked at him, eyes soft. He looked away, then back at Garrett.

“Let’s go,” he finally said. “I need to get out of here.”

They left the mansion and headed towards the car, Marian leaning on Isabela and limping slightly.

“You okay?” Isabela asked, and Marian nodded. Isabela just stared at her, exasperated. “I shouldn’t have bothered asking,” she finally said with a sigh. “And we’re waiting until tomorrow to return the relic. Not up for debate.”

Marian didn’t protest, and they walked the rest of the way in silence.

When they reached the car, Marian pulled herself into the passenger seat, largely at Isabela’s insistence, and Merrill climbed in after her. As soon as the other woman was seated, Marian kissed her on the cheek, and when Isabela climbed in and positioned herself in the driver’s seat, Marian kissed her cheek as well.

A small smile spread onto Marian’s face. Her muscles were aching and everything hurt, but she had cute girls to kiss and a brother who seemed to be happy. Tomorrow would be tough, but for today, they were okay.

As Isabela pulled out of their parking space and headed towards their apartment, Marian leaned back and relaxed. As Isabela drove, she closed her eyes and repeated the thought like a mantra. _We’re okay. We’re okay._ By the time they arrived home, she finally started believing it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the chapter is late, some of the fight scenes gave me a bit of trouble and the week was busy, but better late than never, right? Anyway, thank you for reading, and next chapter will probably be out Sunday, so see you then! Hope you enjoyed!


	21. Garrett

Garrett hadn’t touched Fenris since the moment they had first seen Danarius, when Garrett had shot out a steadying hand toward Fenris’s shoulder, feeling the man tense beneath his hand, the room so quiet you could hear the rustling of Garrett’s shirt.

Fenris had opted to walk rather than join the others in the car, and had been quick to turn down Garrett’s offer of company. By the time Garrett finally succumbed to the warm embrace of sleep, he still hadn’t returned.

Until then Garrett had set his med student knowledge to use patching up his sister, who had sustained extensive bruising and a nasty cut, the former of which Garrett had simply probed for fractures and deemed relatively harmless, although he did wish she had the opportunity to rest and recuperate, and the latter of which he had stitched up and bandaged.

The women had all cuddled up in Marian’s room that night, and Garrett had fallen asleep on the couch, trying unsuccessfully to stay up waiting for Fenris.

Now the apartment was filled with the scent of coffee, and Garrett was groggily lifting his head to peek over the back of the couch at the kitchen. A blanket fell from his shoulders to collect at his waist, and Garrett looked at it in confusion. He had no memory of fetching a blanket before falling asleep the night before.

He turned back to the kitchen, and saw a shock of white hair leaned over the coffee maker. Fenris was back.

Garrett was about to stumble out of the sofa when the door to Marian’s room opened and three women paraded out, fully dressed and ready to go. Marian nodded at Fenris, then grabbed herself a cup and poured herself some coffee from the pot Fenris had just finished preparing. Then her gaze turned on Garrett.

“Get dressed,” she said after a moment, “we’re heading out in five. The sooner we get this over with, the better.”

“Why do I have to come? Aren’t you just going to deliver the book and then get out of there?” Garrett asked, hearing the whininess in his own voice, but too tired to care.

“Yeah, but you’re tagging along in case there’s a fight and we need backup.”

Garrett nodded, realizing that since his instigator of a sister was doing this with Isabela, the crass and inappropriate thief, a fight was bound to break out. He sighed in defeat.

“How’s your arm?” he asked as he stood up and started walking toward his room. He left the door open as he began changing so he could hear her answer.

“It’s fine,” Marian called back, and Garrett heard Isabela scoff.

“Every time someone even grazed it last night, you winced. It’s not fine.”

“I’m still able to beat people up, babe. It’s fine.”

Garrett chuckled at his sister’s stubbornness and finished buttoning up his red flannel shirt. When he exited his room again, Fenris was standing there, waiting for him.

“I- We never really talked about what happened between us that night.” Fenris was about to continue when Marian called out for them to hurry up, reminding them that they were on their way to save Isabela’s life, after all.

Garrett motioned for her to give them a moment and turned back to Fenris. “You didn’t want to talk about it, but if you do now, then we will. But maybe it would be better to have this conversation after we’ve delivered the book? We’ll have more time and less stressful surroundings then.” Garrett cracked a smile before joking, “I don’t think being interrupted by Marian every two minutes is the best circumstance under which to discuss this.”

Fenris nodded a grateful smile on his face, then went over to the door to put on his shoes and jean jacket. Garrett followed, butterflies in his stomach, donning his own boots and leather jacket, and then they all piled up in the truck and set off toward the Par Vollenian compound, following Isabela’s instructions.

Driving there took only a few minutes, as it was just off the Kirkwall docks.

When they arrived, a big, burly man was standing outside the gate to the compound. When he spotted them, his bored look turned into one of vague interest, and he cocked his head to the side in silent question, still looking plenty intimidating.

Garrett let the women take care of the talking, content to simply tag along for now.

Isabela took the lead.

“We’re here to deliver a dusty old book to some dusty old man,” was her immediate reply in a casual tone to the questioning look, and the man’s gaze darkened. Garrett knew he shouldn’t have been surprised the encounter had already turned antagonistic, but he had held onto a quiet hope that with their lives on the line everyone would have at least tried to stay civil. That hope had been dashed swiftly.

The man glared, but didn’t move to attack, and Garrett let out a sigh of relief. Instead, he turned and spoke a few words into some sort of receiver, was quiet while listening to whatever response he received, then nodded at them and began walking into the compound, clearly expecting them to follow.

The women followed without hesitation, but Fenris and Garrett exchanged worried looks before hurrying after them. Going deeper into the compound did not seem to Garrett the wisest course of action, seeing as these were the people who had attacked them all multiple times, but he figured he didn’t have much of a choice. If anyone tried anything, he had Fenris at his back, at least.

The compound was mostly open space, they were led through a small gateway and into a large open area with buildings on either side of them. He led them still forward, until they reached big stone steps leading to a large chair Garrett would almost call a throne if the notion weren’t so absurd.

On the throne was a very large and muscular man, currently focused on an animated conversation between two other men before him. He noticed them, barked out a curt command in some foreign language, and without another word both the men turned to take up post at his side.

Garrett looked questioningly at Fenris, and got a quiet “the Arishok” in return. The man’s title, Garrett assumed, and turned his attention forward again.

Isabela stepped forward, the big tome in her hands.

“I’ve got your dumb book. Mostly undamaged, even. So you want your book back? You can have it.” Her back was to Garrett and so he couldn’t see her face, but he was sure a triumphant and self-satisfied smile was spread across it at that very moment.

A man approached her and took the book from her hands, then walked up the steps and handed it to the Arishok. The Arishok nodded slowly. “The relic is reclaimed,” he began. “We are now free to return to Par Vollen… with the thief.”

“What?” Isabela said, taking a step back and almost running into Garrett. He placed a steadying hand on her shoulder as Marian stepped forward, the familiar sway of barely-concealed aggression in her step.

The Arishok continued. “She stole the Tome of Koslun. She must return with us.”

“You have your relic,” Marian said, voice icy, “She stays with us.”

“No,” the Arishok said, the single word seeming to him enough of an argument.

Marian’s next words sounded curt and bitten out through aggression and rage. “She stays. Fight me.”

Garrett almost smiled. That had always been her reaction to disagreements, since they were kids. Challenging people to fight her over the smallest things. Although, he supposed, this wasn’t a small thing. These men were demanding custody over the woman she loved. Garrett had been in her situation only 24 hours earlier, and he still remembered how it felt when you wanted, needed to protect that person, panic both icy and hot in your veins.

Garrett would do anything to prevent his sister from feeling that emotion.

“You wish to fight me, bas?” the Arishok asked, a small smile playing on his otherwise very stern face. Marian nodded.

“Then you leave me no choice. I challenge you. You and I will battle to the death, with her as the prize.” His voice was calm and serious, leaving no room for refusal.

Isabela stepped forward, Garrett’s hand falling from her shoulder, and hurried to Marian’s side. “No! If you’re going to duel anyone, duel me,” she nearly shouted, panic clear in her voice. Garrett had to admit he wasn’t exactly feeling calm himself, faced with the prospect of his sister battling this gigantic man to the death.

“No,” the Arishok responded, calm as anything, but offering no further explanation of his reasoning behind this decision.

Garrett stepped forward, making a last-ditch effort to resolve the conflict peacefully. “But you have your relic,” he started, “why not just take it and go?”

The Arishok’s dark stare turned on Garrett, and he immediately regretted speaking. After a moment of silent judgement, the Arishok replied. “We do not suffer thieves.” His voice was nearly a snarl. “We cannot walk away from this insult. I will take her. If you object,” he turned to Marian now, addressing his potential opponent rather than Garrett, “duty demands that we fight.”

Garrett couldn’t see Marian’s face, but he was certain she was wearing one of her battle-ready grins. The voice that came from her next all but confirmed it, low and dangerous. “All right,” his sister said, launching herself into a duel that would most likely kill her, “let’s dance.”

Garrett had never before been this terrified for his sister’s life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was actually on time this time! Thank you for reading and I hope you liked it, and hopefully a new chapter will be out on Wednesday, so see you then!


	22. Marian

From the outside, Marian knew she looked tough, unbreakable, arrogant, self-assured. Internally, however, she was spewing out profanity after profanity.

What the hell had she done.

She knew this was necessary, and she knew she had to do this to save Isabela, to keep her with them, to keep Isabela with _her_ , but she couldn’t keep all the desperate and frantic thoughts out. _What if you fail_. _What if they don’t keep their word. What if you lose._

_Is this worth dying for?_

That last one she pushed out of her head, refusing to listen, refusing to think about it, because she had already made up her mind. She was doing this, and that meant she might die for it whether it was worth it or not.

Although she didn’t want to consider whether this was worth dying for, that thing deep in her chest still whispered, too loudly to be ignored.

_She is._

Marian pulled herself out of her thoughts and turned her focus on her awareness of the two women standing by her side. She couldn’t summon the strength to look at them, using all her energy on mentally preparing for the upcoming battle, but the sensation of their heat through her leather jacket was enough to calm her nerves considerably. A reminder of what she would be fighting for.

Merrill was grasping Marian’s right hand in a bruising grip, holding on for dear life, as though she could keep Marian with her through sheer might alone, as though she could prolong this moment if she just held on tight enough. Marian wished she could reassure her, but there were no reassurances to be had, no kind words to be uttered, no optimistic takes on the situation. The only thing she could do was win.

On her other side, Isabela was standing, just barely brushing up against her, her poker face probably looking just as good as Marian’s. Marian didn’t turn to check, keeping her eyes focused on what was happening in front of her.

They watched as the Par Vollenians cleared the area at the bottom of the steps, making sure nothing would be in the way when their leader fought this seemingly insignificant contender. The men moved with a certainty, a purpose, that she had not often seen in mob employees. It was strange to see this sort of discipline here, and it made Marian even more uncertain of her chances in the upcoming fight.

Even so, she would prove she was not insignificant. She would do her damndest to save them all. And if things started heading south, she would find some way to keep the others safe.

The ring was clear, and the men were backing away, taking their places at the sides, watching, waiting. It was obvious that they were eager for bloodshed, that they would enjoy seeing her torn to pieces.

She grabbed Isabela’s hand, and gave both her girlfriends’ hands a quick squeeze before turning to face them. She started whispering frantically. “If things go south, you all run. Fast.” She flickered her eyes from one to the other and back, desperate for them to agree, for them to be safe. “If you don’t, I’ll come back and kick your asses. And Bela,” she turned to Isabela, her eyes grave. “Make sure Gare is safe. If he dies here just because I did, I am holding you personally responsible and haunting you for the rest of your days.”

Isabela nodded, face stony. “And if you die, I’m gonna bring you back and kick your ass,” she retorted, and Marian smiled.

“Deal.” She turned to Merrill. “You take care of Bela, okay?”

Merrill interrupted her. “No. You’re gonna do that, because you’re not going to die. I’m not going to let you.”

Marian smiled, glad at least someone was sure she would win this. Though she supposed it was less that Merrill was sure and more that she refused to believe anything else. Merrill was not naïve, she was an optimist, and when she could not realistically be an optimist, she went ahead and was optimistic anyway.

Isabela was a realist, and dealt with impossible situations accordingly. She would fight them, tooth and claw, and she would never take anything lying down. She didn’t need to be an optimist, because she always figured she could fix things through her actions. Marian knew that having to stand by and watch must be killing her now.

As she considered these parts of her girlfriends, she began cursing herself and the feeling that sprung up in her chest. She was about to go die. And she had just realized what these two women meant to her.

She had just realized she loved them.

A call came out from behind them, and though Marian couldn’t make out the words, the meaning was clear. Come now.

She focused on the two women for another moment, wanting to say something but keeping it inside in case she lost. Her death would be bad enough for them without the knowledge of her newly found realization. Instead, she hoped her eyes spoke for her.

Another barked order came from behind her, and she turned away from Merrill and Isabela, but not before Isabela had a chance to hand her the dual blades she was carrying.

“Kick his ass,” she said, and kissed Marian’s cheek. Marian smiled at her, then turned to Merrill and kissed her forehead.

“I’ll see you guys later. Root for me, will you?” She grinned, then turned and left.

With a practiced ease she pushed her feelings deep inside herself, deleted words like “love” from her mind, and put a violent grin on her face, making herself look ready to take on the world. As she passed Garrett and Fenris on the way to the ring, she stopped for only a moment, standing in front of her brother and giving his shoulder a quick squeeze, impersonal and cold had it not been for the look they exchanged.

Before Merrill and Isabela, Marian had never been the touching kind. She knew Garrett understood what this meant, that this was her saying goodbye, her saying she hoped to see him again, her saying she loved him.

She nodded at Fenris, and he nodded back. “Take care of him,” she heard herself say, and then she started walking again, not even waiting for an answer. The threat was so immediate, she didn’t even feel in touch with herself, she didn’t feel present, she was gone, she was focused completely, she was everywhere and nowhere, she was focused entirely on the ring.

She stepped into the center, and before her was a giant of a man, the Arishok, come to cut her down with the gigantic sword and axe strapped to his back. She got down into a battle-ready position, knees bent, knives in her hands, ready to move at a moment’s notice, and waited for him to charge.

A moment later, the wait was over. The man tugged his weapons from their sheaths and swung.

Marian noted the Arishok’s wide stance and ducked and rolled, passing between his legs and ending up behind him. She attempted to stab him in the back, but before she had an opportunity to his gigantic hand came out behind him and swept her to the side like a doll. She landed hard on the ground, her bruised side taking most of the impact, a hiss escaping from between clenched teeth.

She got up again, determined not to make this any easier for him, and the next thing she saw was him charging at her again. She knew what she had to do to win this.

When he came closer, Marian sidestepped while extending one of her blades, letting it dig deep into his wrist. As blood began gushing, his hand opened and the axe popped out, falling to the ground with a deafening clatter. That didn’t stop him from attacking with the hand, and the next moment the heel of it connected with Marian’s nose, and the hot pain and audible crack confirmed what Marian could have guessed just from seeing the blow as a spectator. The nose was broken.

Marian didn’t hesitate, didn’t let herself feel the pain for even a moment, needing to stay moving, to stay alive. She extended a knife in a long arc, as high as she could, and when the stars receded from her eyes the Arishok had backed off, and a curtain of blood was running from a long and deep gash in his forehead. He looked angry.

Marian guessed he couldn’t see much through the blood in his eyes, and her guess was confirmed when his next swing connected, not with the edge, but with the flat side of the blade. That wasn’t to say it didn’t hurt like a bitch, and Marian could hear the crack of her arm breaking. One of the blades fell out of her hand, and her arm hung limp and useless at her side.

 _Fuck,_ was all Marian could think, knowing she couldn’t afford to lose the function of one of her arms now, knowing that she would likely need both to defeat the Arishok, cursing herself for not ducking in time. She was getting slow with fatigue, and she didn’t know how long she could keep this up.

But so was he. She could see it from the way he responded just a bit too slowly to pain inflicted, how his movements were not completely sluggish, but more so than when they began. She just needed to outlast him, but measuring his stamina against her, that seemed difficult without some drastic measure.

She decided she needed to finish him as soon as possible.

With a desperate leap he should have seen coming and been able to dodge, she went straight for his jugular vein, knife there in a heartbeat, putting all her remaining strength into this final blow.

Her knife connected, and blood began spurting from the punctured artery, but the Arishok’s sword was already there, and before she could leap away, there was a white-hot pain in her stomach, a burning line traced just above her navel, and a cracking pressure on her chest.

She was thrown back onto the ground, blood running from her stomach, her eyes open, needing to see what would become of this last-ditch attempt.

The Arishok fell. His hands were at his throat, trying to staunch the bleeding, but still the blood was spraying from between his fingers. Marian could see his face draining of color, but she could also feel herself growing weaker and weaker.

He was dying, but so was she. And at this rate, there was no telling who would go first. She needed to finish him off.

It took all her strength to get up onto her hands and knees, or rather, hand and knees, as her left still refused to move, and she had to call on every single reserve she had to crawl over to the gigantic man. On the way she found the dagger she had dropped and placed it between her teeth, carrying it with her mouth, having no other means of transporting it. As she moved she could feel more and more blood escaping her body. She almost passed out halfway, and only sheer willpower kept her going past that point.

She finally reached him, and his eyes were glassy but aware. She raised her dagger above them, feeling sickly and weak and as though she were dying, and she probably was, and let gravity lend her the force necessary to drive it into his eye socket. She twisted the knife once, and the body beneath her went completely limp. She collapsed on top of him and breathed, for only a moment.

Then she raised her head, shouted “he’s dead!” with the last bit of energy she had, and, ignoring the commotion that immediately resulted from her words, she let herself collapse again.

Her consciousness seemed to drain from her along with her blood, and everything seemed to fade away, growing darker and quieter, until there was nothing, no sound, no light, no feeling. Only the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, another chapter on time, what a surprise? I hope you guys liked it, next one will be out on sunday. Thank you so much for the kudos and comments and stuff, they really make this all worth it, and thank you for reading!


	23. Garrett

Garrett was in the ring the second Marian collapsed on top of the dead Arishok. No one had stopped him. The Par Vollenians seemed to have all accepted their loss with a grace he would not have attributed to such brutes.

His heart was beating out a million jagged thumps a minute, he could hear nothing but that sound, loud and violent. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think, the only thing in his head was a desperate need to keep his sister alive.

He reached her body, a bleeding mess of limbs arranged haphazardly atop another broken mess of a body, though this larger one looked more whole. What a bad sign it was, Garrett thought, that the dead giant beneath his sister looked less dead than she did. As he collapsed to his knees next to her he felt a hand on his shoulder, hard and demanding, more to steady the other person than to comfort him, but that was okay. He saw movement out of the corner of his eye, which he ignored as he leaned down to put an ear to his sister’s mouth to check her breathing.

He was completely quiet for a moment, desperate to hear something, anything, and after a moment a shaky breath escaped from Marian’s mouth. Garrett heaved a sigh of relief, but allowed himself no further reaction to the fact that his sister was still alive.

An insistent voice sounded from his side, stoic and just a bit aggressive. “Is she alive?” it asked, and he didn’t turn to see Isabela’s face, knowing that if he took his attention from Marian and diminished her chances of survival at all, Isabela would murder him. Instead he yanked the knife from the Arishok’s eye and began cutting off Marian’s shirt as he responded.

“Yes,” he replied, prying blood-soaked fabric from the slash running from one side of her abdomen to the other.

“Can you keep her that way?” another voice asked, and the identity of the new speaker evaded Garrett for a moment. _Merrill_ , he realized quickly. The other girlfriend.

“I’m sure as hell gonna try,” he replied.

“What can we do?” Isabela asked as Garrett put down the knife and began probing the wound.

“Get me some fabric. Anything I can soak up blood and put pressure on the wound with.” The gash was deep, but it didn’t seem to have pierced anything vital. They would know more once they got her to an actual fully educated doctor. At the moment, the knowledge Garrett had amassed from his years at med school seemed woefully inadequate. “That will have to be enough until we get her to a hospital.”

As soon as he uttered the word “hospital” a hand grabbed weakly at the front of his shirt. When he looked up at Marian’s face again, he saw open eyes and the familiar fierce determination that was always just a breath away from his sister’s face.

“No hospitals,” a weak but determined voice said, and Garrett was speechless for a moment.

“But…” he began, but was quickly interrupted by Isabela.

“No hospitals,” she mirrored, and when Garrett gave her a surprised look, she explained. “Everything we’ve done these past few days? Incredibly illegal. We do not want the police to know. But guess what? If we get her to a hospital with these obvious as fuck injuries, people are gonna start asking questions. No fucking way nurses are gonna see that and _not_ call the police.”

Garrett didn’t even bother to nod, returning to work. After a moment of prodding, and after determining as certainly as he was able that nothing vital had been injured, he reluctantly agreed. “But,” he said, “we have to get her home. I can’t do this here, and I can’t do this without supplies. We need to go.”

Garrett grabbed the light and floral cardigan Merrill offered him and placed it over Marian’s stomach. When he turned his attention back to what was happening around them, it appeared Fenris was addressing the Par Vollenians. Garrett figured he had the task well in hand and turned his attention back to his work.

After a minute spent cataloguing his sister’s other injuries while Isabela kept pressure on the wound and they waited to get out of there, a tentative hand made contact with Garrett’s shoulder. He looked up to see Fenris, looking down at him, worry in his eyes.

“We can go now. They will not come near us again.”

Garrett heaved a sigh of relief, then began barking out orders. “Isabela, keep pressure on the wound. I’m gonna lift her. Actually, trade places with Merrill, you’re gonna have to drive.” Isabela nodded, and she and Merrill managed to maneuver into their new positions without a hitch. He looked at Fenris. “You’re gonna go on a supply run as soon as we’re close to the apartment. I’ll tell you what we need in the car. We need to go right now, okay?” This last part was addressed at everyone, and they all nodded, walking, almost running with him toward where they had parked the car.

Their movements were more than a little awkward, with Marian carried in Garrett’s arms and Merrill hurrying in front of them, trying to keep consistent pressure on the wound even with Marian bouncing up and down in Garrett’s arms, but somehow they made it, all five piling into the car. Isabela took the driver’s seat and Fenris took the spot next to her, while Garrett and Merrill laid Marian out in the back. Garrett pretended not to see Merrill’s tears as they laid her gently down on the hard metal surface. He took over for her, and she went to the front of the car and took the seat next to Fenris.

Isabela began driving, careful not to jostle the passengers in the back. It again took only a few minutes to get from the docks to their apartment, and as soon as they had gotten Marian out of the car, Fenris drove off with a shopping list of supplies Garrett would need to stitch her back together.

Garrett carried her up the stairs and dumped her on the couch. Merrill and Isabela immediately began preparing the things he had asked for on the car ride over. They seemed as desperate as he was to keep her alive and well.

That was a big undertaking.

Garrett took a moment to steady himself, allowed himself a few small seconds to feel the panic before pushing it to the side, and then he set to work.

* * *

The next hour passed in a bloody, stressful, terrifying blur. He worked so very hard to try to keep his sister alive and felt so much fear and adrenaline that at the end of it his body felt like it had been put in an aggressive wash cycle and then wrung out. He barely had any energy left.

Garrett’s hands were bloody, so he decided now was a good time to wash them.

He walked over to the kitchen sink and turned the tap on. Blood smeared the formerly pristine and shiny metal, and Garrett sighed. He tried to wipe it off with his hands, but only managed to get more blood on the metal, painting it an alarming shade of red. Shiny metal peeked through where the layer of blood was thinnest, and Garrett was reminded of the terrifying image of his sister’s body collapsed on top of the man she had just killed, light bouncing off of the blood-coated knife sticking out of the man’s eye, some spots still shining where the layer of blood was thinnest.

In his mind, the memory was a vibrant red, a violent retelling of his sister’s battle.

Garrett shook himself to dislodge the mental image from his mind and instead placed his hands under the running water. He watched as it turned red at contact with his blood-stained hands, then gather in a pool at the bottom of the basin before disappearing down the drain. The cold water helped center him again, and he was grateful.

When the water ran clear Garrett turned the tap off, ignoring the way the blood on the sink stuck to his fingers again, deciding that he would deal with that later. He walked back to the couch and almost sat down before remembering the amount of blood soaking the cushions. He made a mental note to replace it as soon as possible, which his brain promptly swallowed in a fit of exhaustion, then let himself slide down the side of the wall and come to a rest on the floor, knees tugged to his chest and head buried in them.

The blood on the couch had brought back the image of Marian lying on it, labored breathing filling the room as Garrett tried to fix her.

It hadn’t been easy, as the damage had been extensive, but after staunching the bleeding in her abdomen and sewing the wound shut, setting her broken arm, sewing shut her reopened arm wound, and setting her broken nose, he had finally declared that he had done all he could do. Isabela had helped him carry Marian into her own room, where she was now lying on a soft bed, tucked safely between two women who loved her very much.

He had to repeat that last part to himself, remind himself that this nightmare was over. _She was tucked safely between two women who loved her._

Garrett was so happy his sister had found those two. He was so happy his sister was safe. He was so happy his sister had found happiness.

He knew he was happy, but the exhaustion seemed to turn down the volume on every emotion he felt.

He wished Fenris would come back.

He had only gone to the nearest take-away place, Garrett knew, had only gone to get some food so Garrett wouldn’t have to. But still he felt so incredibly far away, so unobtainable, so distant. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that he needed Fenris right then.

Garrett sat like that, lost in thought, losing track of time until he heard the door opening and someone coming in.

He lifted his head to see a visibly tired but tense Fenris. Their eyes met for just a moment, then Fenris dumped two bags of take-away boxes on the kitchen counter, closed the door, walked over to Garrett and sat down next to him.

Fenris was back, and the wrongness inside Garrett dissolved, leaving only relief at seeing him again and fluttering in his stomach at the feeling of Fenris’s shoulder against his own.

There was nothing to say, and so they said nothing.

After a few minutes, though, Garrett became aware that the other man wanted to talk about something, though he seemed reluctant to bring it up under these circumstances. He decided to just kick-start the process of talking.

“She’s safe. We can talk about other things now, I don’t mind.”

Fenris sighed, then spoke. “We have never discussed… what happened between us three days ago,” he began, mirroring the start of their attempted first conversation that morning.

“You didn’t want to talk about it,” Garrett replied, doing the same.

Fenris looked up at the ceiling, hands palm up on his raised knees, back still against the wall. “I felt like a fool,” he said, voice holding a sadness Garrett hoped would never have reason to appear again. “I thought it better if you hated me. I deserve no less.”

He seemed to take a moment to collect himself, and then his demeanor and voice changed, became more forceful, more powerful, in a way. As though he were asserting himself, letting himself have this. “But it isn’t better. That night…” His voice grew softer again, and he was looking right at Garrett now, holding his gaze. “I remember your touch as if it were yesterday. I guess it almost was yesterday. It feels longer.

“I should have stayed. I was a coward. I hope… I hope you can forgive me.”

Garrett was surprised. “You… you needed time. There is nothing to forgive. Although… do you want to tell me why? Did something happen? Is there anything I can do to ensure it doesn’t happen again?”

Fenris smiled a small smile at this, and it made Garrett’s heart soar. “I appreciate your concern, as well as your willingness to accommodate me. I… it was too painful. I began… remembering things, things I would rather not, and I… I was afraid. The pain, the memories it brought up… it was too much.”

He was serious now, looking away, but then he looked right back at Garrett, determined and fierce again, hands balled into fists at his sides. “I was a coward.” Then, still fierce, but more matter-of-factly, not meeting Garrett’s eyes. “If I could go back, I would stay. Tell you how I felt.”

“What would you have said?” Garrett asked, smile playing at the edges of his mouth.

Fenris smiled at him, a glorious, soft, hopeful smile. A smile that made Garrett want to hold onto him forever, a smile that Garrett would fight to keep. “That I would like to see where this is going,” he replied. “That I would like to stay.”

Garrett smiled, then cradled Fenris’s face in his hands.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, and Fenris nodded, reaching up until Garrett could feel his warm hands on his cheeks.

Garrett was not one for clichés, but when their mouths met, he could have sworn there were sparks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for this being late, I had something on Sunday but decided I needed to change some stuff but it's here now! Next and last chapter will hopefully/probably be out Sunday. Thank you guys so much for reading and sticking with me this far, it's been great. See you Sunday!


	24. Marian

Four days ago, Marian had battled the Arishok and almost died. Three days ago, she had woken up in her own bed, every part of her body screaming in pain, been given… something, and drifted away again on a hazy wave of nothingness. Two days ago, she had woken up properly again, still in pain but refusing to acknowledge it, refusing to pay attention to the dull throb of her broken arm, refusing to listen to the sharp screams the wound on her abdomen let out every time she moved, refusing to let the others see her weakness. One day ago, she had become sick of being practically chained to their new sofa with the others as her only entertainment and made her first escape attempt, which was quickly foiled by Merrill’s stern compassion and soft arms.

Now, after another three escape attempts, Marian was lying on the couch, Isabela behind her, Merrill in front of her, _the filling in a gal pal sandwich,_ Marian thought and smiled. Merrill was taking great care not to rest too heavily on her abdomen, both women were taking care not to touch any of Marian’s injuries, and Marian was feeling the dam she had constructed to keep her emotions at bay groan under the strain of her love for these women.

Isabela and Merrill were conducting a soft conversation about everything and nothing, the stars, the moon, the beauty spot on Isabela’s butt, the rain falling heavily outside, the bookshop down the street, the depths of the ocean, their conversations had taken twists and turns Marian would never have expected. She had stopped paying attention a while ago, simply letting their soft voices and the pounding of rain against the windows lull her into a serene half-sleep. She was drowsy and calm and at peace, and she could not remember the last time she had felt this way. She snuggled a little closer to Isabela, resting her face in the crook of her neck.

The soft conversation died down when the door opened to admit Garrett and Fenris, who were laughing at something one of them had said, immediately changing the mood of the apartment, making it more animated, more awake, more alive. She livened up a bit and turned toward her brother at the sound. It seemed to be a special skill of her brother’s, Marian thought, to always light up the room when he entered.

She looked at him, properly looked at him, took in his smile and flushed cheeks behind that big beard, the way he shone, the way he lit up the room, the way he could change the mood of a place with his laugh alone. It struck her then how _happy_ her brother looked, how calm and at peace. She could feel a soft smile spread across her face, could feel holes appearing in the dam around her heart, and quickly turned away from them.

The smell of food was quick to follow the two men into the apartment, and Isabela disentangled herself from beneath Marian.

“Thank the Maker you guys are finally here, I’m starving. What have you got?”

Merrill got out of the couch and Marian started to rise as well before being stopped, partly by the pain suddenly lancing through her abdomen, and partly by Isabela’s hand on her shoulder keeping her down.

“No. You are not wrecking your stitches today,” she said, and pointed to Merrill. “Kitten?” was all she needed to say, and Merrill sank down on the couch again and curled up against Marian’s side.

“I’ll make sure she doesn’t get up,” she said, and began playing with the oversized sleeve of Marian’s ugliest and most comfortable sweater. “Get some food for me too?” Isabela simply smiled that smile they both loved in response, then walked to the kitchen and got three plates out of the cabinet.

Garrett and Fenris had already filled their plates with heaps of rice and chicken and were making their way back towards the small three-seater. Instead of squeezing into the last available seat they left that for Isabela and settled down on the floor, backs to the wall, facing the couch, close enough that their knees touched when they sat.

As soon as Isabela had ferried all three plates, now filled with food, to the couch where the others were sitting and had sat down, Marian spoke.

“We’re getting a bigger apartment. This three room set-up does not cut it anymore, and now that there’s five of us, we can afford it.” She looked at Fenris, a question in her eyes, wanting to be sure that he wanted this too. She knew about the shitty barely-apartment now, knew he had no one but them, knew he loved her brother, and that was all she needed to know to accept him into this small makeshift family of hers.

After a moment, he nodded at her, the corner of his mouth quirked up almost unnoticeably. She grinned in response, feeling concrete fall, holes appear, and leakages begin.

Marian turned away from him and noticed Merrill looking at her, small frown on her face. “I don’t have any money, though,” she said. “Or a job. Or anything, really.” She looked sad, thought she was trying to hide it, and Marian knew she had been reminded of everything she had lost and left behind.

Marian looked at her for a moment, hesitating, before responding. “Then we’ll find you a job,” she said. “Maybe the coffee shop Fenris works at needs more baristas. Or maybe the bookstore down the street needs someone. We can check the classifieds and I can help you find something.” Marian paused. “You can build a life here, just like us,” she said, quieter, letting some of the things breaking through the dam make their way past her mouth, and Merrill’s expression changed into a soft smile.

Marian collected herself, but didn’t take any time to close herself off again. There was no point. “Speaking of work,” she said, her voice louder and more forceful now, directed at Garrett, “when do I get to go back?”

Garrett seemed to consider this for a moment before responding. “Give it a few more days,” he said. “I want to be sure you don’t rip your stomach open again your first day back. And take it easy the first few days, okay?”

“All right, mom,” Marian responded, secretly relieved her brother hadn’t named a longer period of time. She was itching to go back to work, tired of lying on the couch all day.

“But it’s settled, all right? We’re all getting a place together.” Marian looked around the room to see that everyone was nodding in agreement, all of them smiling and happy, Garrett and Fenris sitting together, eating one handed while their other hands rested inches apart on the floor, her girlfriends there on the couch with her, faces open and loving, everyone having found each other, everyone happy and peaceful and content.

Marian could feel the holes in the dam grow. This was her family, she thought. It was small, and it was imperfect, and it was damaged, and it was beautiful. She knew she could not fix it, knew that she could not fix anyone in it, knew that none of them could fix her, but she also knew that they would love her, and that she would love them.

Marian smiled.

Slowly but surely, the dam was being torn down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dudes. I finished the thing. Wow. Thank you guys so much for the comments, the kudos, for reading, for sticking with me through this. Especially thanks to Cassaunsavell and NerdsbianHokie, your comments have really made this an amazing experience and I am so thankful to you guys! I'd also like to thank Victoria, my wonderful beta reader, without you none of this would be possible.  
> I'll probably start a new fic soon, so check back for that if you feel like it I guess? Again, thank you for everything, and Dirthera out (for now)!


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